^^^^mm"^^^^^^^^ 


GIFT  or 

.    A.    Setchell 


■•.■.•'•\i..ii'  ^,};<  'M  :/.'; 


110 


/Kr^ 


S^  .\V;^.(„       "  jM 


A 


Copyright,  jgoj 
By  Nathan  Haskell  Dole 


....     . .  ■  •   > ;,-  '  J  •  '  > ' 


c  c      t     ' 


"  Blest  is  the  merchant's  fate,"  the  soldier 

cries, 
As  bowed  with  years  the  toilsome  march 

he  plies  : 
Again,  the  merchant  tossed  by  storms  at 

sea 
Exclaims,  —  "The    soldier's  is  the    life 

for  me  ; 
For  why — the  trumpet  summons  to  the 

fray. 
And  death  or  glory  quickly  crowns  the 

day." 
The  lawyer,  when  ere  cock-crow  at  his 

gate 
Loud  clients  knock,  applauds  the  peas- 
ant's fate : 
Dragged  from  the  country  by  a  writ,  the 

clown 
Swears  none  are  blest  but  those  that  dwell 

in  town. 
So  many  like  examples  wait  our  call, 
Scarce  prating  Fabius  could  recount  them 

all. 


^^m 


But  (not  to  tire  myself  and  you)  't  were 

best 
At  once  to  bring  the  matter  to  the  test. 
Suppose  some  god  should  cry,  *'  Lo,  it 

shall  be 
Even   as    ye   list :    you,   soldier,    off  to 

sea  ! 
You,  lawyer,  go  and   plough  !  advance, 

retire, 
Change    sides,  and  be  at  last    what    ye 

desire  !  " 
Why  all  draw  back  !  —  Was  ever  whim 

like  this  ?  — 
Retract  their  wishes,  and  renounce  their 

bliss  ! 
What  hinders  but  that  Jove,  with  burly 

scowl 
(As  limners  paint  him)  and  inflated  jowl, 
In  vengeance  swear,  that  never  will  he 

deign 
A  patient  hearing  to  such  suits  again  ? 
But,  not    to    treat    my  subject   as  in 

jest  — 


M, 


^-.iS*!^. 


come 

And  learn  his  horn-book,  with  a  sugar 
plum  ?)  — 

Joking  apart  —  he  that  with  restless  toil 

Urges  his  ploughshare  through  the  stub- 
born soil, 

This  tapster-like  retailer  of  the  laws. 

This  veteran  champion  of  his  country's 
cause, 

And  this  stout  seaman  who  in  quest  of 
gain 

Unfurls  his  sail  and  braves  the  boister- 
ous main. 

All  with  one  view  profess  to  labour  on  — 

That,  when  at  last  the  spring  of  life  is 
gone 

And  strength  declines,  of  ample  stores 
possest 

They  may  retire  to  competence  and 
rest. 


8 


So    the  small    ant  (the    precedent    they 

plead). 
Patient  of  toil  and  provident  of  need. 
Drags  in  her  mouth  whatever  spoil  she 

meets, 
And    adds    it   to   her   stock   of   hoarded 

sweets. 
Yet  that  same  ant,  when  wintry  clouds 

appear. 
And  grim  December's  blasts  deform  the 

year, 
Creeps  not  from  home ;  but  temperately 

wise 
Unlocks    her    hoard    and    feeds   on    her 

supplies  : 
While     you    nor     summer's     heat     nor 

winter's  cold 
Can   tear   asunder   from   the    search   of 

gold; 
Fire,  water,  steel   must    yield  to  sordid 

pelf. 
Till    not    a    wretch    is    wealthier    than 

yourself. 


l<^ 


^ 


1. 


Say,  what  avails  it  thus  to  drudge  and 
sweat 

For    all    the    gold    and    silver    you   can 
get,— 

And,  when  the  silver  and  the  gold  are 
found. 

To  delve   a   pit  and  hide   them   under- 
ground ? 
"  The  heap,  once  touched,  soon  dwin- 
dles to  an  end." 

But  wherefore  was  it  heaped,  unless  to 
spend  ? 

Ten  thousand  coombs  are  threshed  upon 
your  floor ;  — 

What  follows  ?   not  that  you  can  eat  the 
more. 

Thus,  were  it  yours  to  bear  upon  your 
head 

Amid    a    train    of    slaves    the    sack    of 
bread. 

Not    one    loaf    more    would    to    your 
portion  fall 

Than  to  the  rest  who  carried  none  at  all. 


10 


Whoe'er  to  nature's  wants  conforms  his 

will, 
Say,  what  imports  it  whether  that  man 

till 
Ten  —  or  ten  thousand  —  rood  ?  —  "  A 

pleasure  lies 
In  drawing  what  one  wants  from  large 

supplies  —  " 
This    we     can    draw,    too,    from     our 

humbler  store  ; 
And   what    can    all    your    granaries    do 

more  ? 
As   if  you   should    of  water    clear    and 

sweet 
Need    but  a  pitcher-full  (while  at  your 

feet 
Bubbled   a   spring)   and    say,  "  My   cup 

I  'II  fill 
From  yon  deep  river,  not  from  this  poor 

rill." 
So    shall    the    slippery    bank    your    foot 

betray. 
And  you  by  Aufidus  be  swept  away ; 


HH 


II 


While  he,  who  wisely  studies  to  confine 
His   wishes   there   where    nature    draws 

the  line, 
Quaffs    pure     his    beverage     from    the 

fountain's  side, 
Nor  tempts  the  perils  of  the  boisterous 

tide. 
Yet   thousands,  duped   by   avarice   in 

disguise. 
Intrench  themselves  in  maxims  sage  and 

wise. 
"  Go  on,"  say  they,  "  and  hoard   up  all 

you  can  ; 
For  wealth  is  worth,  and  money  makes 

the  man  !  "  ^y 

What  shall  we  say  to  such  ?     Since  't  is 

their  will 
Still    to    be    wretched,   let    them    be   so 

still ;  — 
Self-curst  as  that  same  miser  must  have 

been. 
Who    lived  at   Athens,  rich  as  he  was 

mean,  — 


12 


^^^ 


Who,  when  the  people  hissed,  would  turn 

about 
And  drily  thus  accost  the  rabble-rout : 
"  Hiss  on ;  I    heed   you    not,   ye  saucy 

wags. 
While  self-applauses  greet  me  o'er  my 

bags." 
Poor  Tantalus  attempts  in  vain  to  sip 
The    flattering    stream    that    mocks   his 

thirsty  lip. 
You    smile,   as  if   the    story    were    not 

true  ! 
Change  but  the  name,  and  it  applies  to 

you. 
O'er  countless  heaps  in  nicest  order  stored 
You    pore    agape,   and    gaze    upon    the 

hoard. 
As  relics  to  be  laid  with  reverence  by, 
Or   pictures   only   meant   to    please   the 

eye. 
With  all  your  cash,  you  seem  not  yet 

to  know 
Its  proper  use,  or  what  it  can  bestow  ! 


rr 


13 


^ 


"  'T  will  buy  me  herbs,  a  loaf,  a  pint  of 

wine,  — 
All,   which    denied    her,   Nature   would 

repine." 
But  what   are   your  indulgencies  ?     All 

day. 
All    night,   to  watch  and   shudder  with 

dismay. 
Lest  ruffians  fire  your  house,  or   slaves 

by  stealth 
Rifle    your    coffers,    and    abstract    your 

wealth  ? 
If  this  be  affluence  —  this  her    boasted 

fruit. 
Of  all  such  joys  may  I  live  destitute  ! 
"  Yet    if   a    cold "    (you    urge)    "  or 

aching  head 
Or  other  ill  confine  you  to  your  bed, 
With  wealth   you  'II  never  want  some 

faithful  friend 
Or  civil  neighbour,  zealous  to  attend, 
Sit    by    you,    mix    your    cordials,    and 

request 


14 


The  doctor  to  beware,  and  do  his  best,  — 
Your  precious  health,  if  possible,  restore, 
And  give  you   to  your  weeping  friends 

once  more." 
Vain  thought !   for  you  nor  daughter, 

son,  nor  wife. 
Puts  up  the  prayer,  or  cares  about  your 

life. 
Relations   and    acquaintance,   great   and 

small, 
Female  and  male,  despise  —  detest  you 

—  all. 
Nor  wonder  if,  while  gold   is   all   your 


care. 


That   love  you   feel   not,  neither  must 

you  share. 
But   if   you    think    to    win,    by    wealth 

alone. 
The  love  of  them  whom   nature  made 

your  own, 
'T  is  labour  lost,  —  as  if  one  strove  to 

train 
The  ass  to  prance  and  curvet  to  the  rein. 


y^X 


15 


Push    not   your   wishes    then   to   this 

excess  ; 
But,  as  you   have  the   more,  fear  want 

the  less. 
You  are  what  once  you  wished  : —  then 

wisely  cease 
All  further  trouble,  and  repose  in  peace  : 
Lest  the  same  doom  be  yours,  which,  as 

we  're  told, 
Befel  a  rich   curmudgeon   once  of  old, 
Possest   (my  tale  is  short)  of  so  much 

treasure 
That    he   could    count    it    only    by    the 

measure ; 
And  yet  withal  so  eager  still  to  save. 
He  drest,  he  fared,  scarce  better  than  a 

slave,  — 
Nay,  to  his  death  was  haunted  with  the 

dread 
Of  want  and  beggary  hanging  o'er  his 

head. 
At    last    a    wench    of    true    Tyndarid 

vein 


i6 


Took  up  an  axe  and  clave  the  churl  in 

twain. 
"  But  must  I  waste,  like  Naevius,  my 

estate  ? 
Like  Nomentanus,  live.a  profligate? — " 
Why  deal  in  such  extremes  ?  what  need 

to  place 
These  opposite  excesses  face  to  face  ? 
I  blame  the  niggard  ;  but  it  follows  not 
That  I  commend  the  rake-hell  and  the 

sot. 
Much  as  they  differ,  Tanais  I  admire 
As  little  as  I  do  Visellius'  fire. 
Some  bound  there  ever  is,  some  rule  of 

right, 
Which  parts  each  error  from  its  opposite  : 
Folly  and  vice  on  either  side  are  seen. 
While    justice,    truth,    and    virtue     lie 

between. 
Thus  —  (to   revert  to  what  was  said 

at  first)  — 
All    view    their    own    condition    as    the 

worst ; 


17 


iC3. 


And,  meanly  envious  of  another's  lot, 
Scorn  what   they  have  and  praise   vi^hat 

they  have  not. 
If  but  some  luckier  neighbour's  ewes  or 

kine 
Yield    more   than    theirs,   they    murmur 

and  repine  : 
And,  while   insatiate  avarice   bids  them 

pant 
First  one  and  then  another  to  supplant. 
However   rich,    some    richer    still    they 

find, 
Toil    after    them,    nor    heed    the     poor 

behind. 
So  in  the  race,  when  starting  from  the 

bar 
The  furious  coursers  urge  the  rapid  car, 
To  pass  the  next  on  speeds  the  charioteer. 
Disdaining  him  that  lingers  in  the  rear. 
Hence  few    are   found,  who   dying   can 

declare 
That  theirs  was  comfort  unalloyed  with 

care  ; 


i8 


19 


SATIRE  II. 


TO    MAECENAS 


"  Amhuhaiaruyji  collegia  pharmacopola." 

The  tribes  of  minstrels,  strolling  priests 

and  players. 
Perfumers,  and  buffoons,  are  all  in  tears  ; 
For  ah  !    Tigellius,  sweetest  songster,  's 

dead, 
And  sure  the  soul  of  bounty  with  him 

fled. 
Behold  a  wretch,  in  opposite  extreme, 
So  fearful  of  a  spendthrift's  odious  name, 
He  dare  not  even  a  sordid  pittance  give 
To  raise  a  worthy  friend,  and  bid  him 

live. 
Or  ask  another,  why  in  thankless  feasts 
The    wealth   of  all  his  frugal  sires    he 

wastes  ; 


20 


Then  the   luxurious  treat   profuse  sup- 
plies 
With     borrowed     sums  :    "  Because     I 

scorn,"  he  cries, 
"  To    be    a    wretch    of    narrow    spirit 

deemed."  — 
By   some   condemned,   by   others   he   's 

esteemed. 
Fufidius,    rich    in    lands,    and    large 

increase 
Of    growing     usury,    dreads    the     foul 

disgrace 
To  be  called  rake  ;  and,  ere  the  money  's 

lent. 

He  prudently  deducts  his  cent,  per  cent. 
Then,    as    he    finds    the    borrower   dis- 

trest, 
Cruel  demands  a  higher  interest. 
But  lends  profusely  to  the  lavish  heir. 
Whose    guardians    prove    too    frugally 

severe. 
All-powerful  Jove,  the  indignant  reader 

cries. 


^*sL.  •••••      ••••         •*••"  ••#•  **.*• 


21 


KT^l 


"  But   his    expenses,    with    his    income, 

rise." 
No  — 't  is  amazing,  that  this  man  of  pelf 
Hath  yet  so  little  friendship  for  himself. 
That    even    the    Self-tormentor    in    the 

play. 
Cruel   who    drove    his   much-loved   son 

away. 
Amidst  the  willing  tortures  of  despair 
Could    not   with   wretchedness   like   his 

compare. 
But  say,  at  what  this  tedious  preface 
aims  — 
That  fools  are  ever  vicious  in  extremes. 
While  soft  Malthinus  trails  a  length  of 

train. 
See  that  short  robe  ridiculously  obscene. 
RufiUus    with    perfumes    distracts    your 

head : 
With  his  own  scents  Gorgonius  strikes 

you  dead. 
There  are,  all  other  passions  who  dis- 
claim, 


l' 


22 


Except  the  impurpled  robe,  and  wedded 

dame  : 
Others    their    safer,    cheaper    pleasures 

choose, 
And   take   a  willing    mistress    from   the 

stews. 
When  awful  Cato  saw  a  noted  spark 
From  a  night-cellar  stealing  in  the  dark, 
"  Well    done,    my    friend  :    if   love    thy 

breast  inflame, 
Indulge  it  here,  and  spare  the   married 

dame." 
Be  mine  the  silken  veil,  Cupiennius  cries. 
Such  vulgar  praise  and  pleasure  I  despise. 
All   ye,  who  wish  some  dire  mishap 

may  wait 
This    horning     tribe,     attend     while     I 

relate 
What  dangers  and  disasters  they  sustain. 
How    few    their     pleasures,    and     how 

mixed  with  pain. 
A  desperate  leap  one  luckless  caitiff 

tries ; 


:oj 


^^m 


23 


Torn  by  the  fragrant  lash  another  dies  : 

Some  are  by  robbers  plundered  as  they 
fly; 

Others  with  gold  a  wretched  safety  buy. 

Such  various  woes  pursue  these  sons  of 
lust. 

And   all,  but   Galba,  own  the  sentence 
just. 
Far    safer    they,    who    venture    their 
estate, 

And   trade  with   females   of  the  second 
rate. 

"  Yet    Sallust  rages   here  with  wild  de- 
sires. 

As    mad   as    those   which    lawless    love 
inspires." 

But   had    he    been    with    less   profusion 
kind. 

Had  common  sense  his  lavish  hand  con- 
fined. 

He    had   not   now   been    wholly   lost   to 
shame. 

In  fortune  ruined,  as  undone  in  fame. 


24 


But  here  's  the  joy  and  comfort  of  his 
life, 

To  swear,  he  never  touched  his  neigh- 
bour's wife. 
Thus,  to  an  actress  when  with  lavish 
hand 

Marsaeus    gave    his    mansion-house   and 
land, 

"  My    soul,    thank     heaven,"    he    cries, 
"  from  guilt  is  free  ; 

The  wedded  dames  are  vestal  maids  for 
me. 
Actress  or  not,  the  crime  is  still  the 
same, 

Equal  the  ruin  of  estate  and  fame  : 

Equal  the  folly,  whether  in  pursuit 

Of  wife,  or  slave,  or  loose-robed  prosti- 
tute ; 

Unless  you  mean,  content  to  be  undone. 

To  hate  the  person,  not  the  vice  to  shun. 
Of    Sylla's    wanton    daughter    when 
possest, 

Villius  believed  himself  supremely  blest : 


'"mv^'»''> 


25 


To  a  dictator  thus  to  be  allied, 
Dazzled    his    senses,   and    indulged    his 

pride  : 
But  sure,  if  vanity  were  fairly  rated, 
Methinks    poor  Villius  was    full    hardly 

treated. 
When  buffeted  and  stabbed  the  coxcomb 

dies, 
While  in  the  wanton's  arms  a  scoundrel 

lies. 
But  Nature,  rich  in   her  own   proper 

wealth 
Of  youth  and  beauty,  cheerfulness  and 

health. 
In  her  pursuit  of  happiness  disclaims 
The    pride  of  titles,  and  the  pomp  of 

names. 
Be  thine  her  wise  economy  to  learn, 
And  real  from  affected  bliss  discern. 
Then,    lest    repentance    punish    such    a 

life. 
Never,  ah  !  never  kiss  your  neighbour's 

wife ; 


26 


WIM 


For  see,  what  thousand  mischiefs  round 

you  rise, 
And  few  the  pleasures,  though  you  gain 

the  prize. 
What   though    Cerinthus   dotes    upon 

the  girl, 
Who    flames    with    emerald    green,    or 

snowy  pearl. 
Is  she  beyond  a  common   mistress  blest 
With  leg  more  taper,  or  a  softer  breast  ? 
Besides,  the  public  nymph  no  varnish 

knows. 
But  all  her  venal  beauties  frankly  shows, 
Nor   boasts    some    happier   charm   with 

conscious  pride. 
Nor  strives  a  vile  deformity  to  hide. 
When    skilful  jockeys  would  a  courser 

buy. 
They  strip  him  naked  to  the  curious  eye  ; 
For  oft  an  eager  chapman  is  betrayed 
To  buy  a  foundered  or  a  spavined  jade, 
While  he  admires  a  thin,  light-shouldered 

chest. 


27 


A    little    head,   broad    back,  and    rising 

crest. 
The  example  's  good :  then  keep  it  in 

thy  mind. 
Nor  to  the  fair  one's  faults  be  over-blind. 
Nor    gaze     with     idle    rapture    on    her 

charms  : 
"  Oh  !    what  a  taper   leg !    what  snowy 

arms  !  " 
For  she  may  hide,  whate'er  she  vainly 

shows. 
Low    hips,  short   waist,  splay   feet,  and 

hideous  length  of  nose. 
But  if  you  still  pursue  this  dangerous 

game 
(Perhaps  the  dangers  your  desires  inflame) 
What  formidable  works  around  her  rise  ! 
Maids,    chairmen,     footmen,    flatterers, 

guard  the  prize. 
The  flowing   robe,  and   closely  muffled 

veil 
With   envious  folds  the   precious  thing 

conceal  ; 


28 


But  what  from  nature's  commoners  you 

buy, 
Through  the  thin  robe  stands  naked  to 

your  eye  : 
Or,  if  you  will  be  cheated,  pay  the  fair, 
With    foolish    fondness,   ere   she    shows 

her  ware. 
As    when    a    sportsman    through    the 

snowy  waste 
Pursues    a    hare,   which   he    disdains   to 

taste, 
"  So    (sings  the   rake)    my   passion    can 

despise 
An  easy  prey,  but  follow  when  it  flies." 
Yet  can  these  idle  versicles  remove 
The   griefs  and    tortures  of  this   guilty 

love  ? 
Were  it  not  better  wisdom  to  inquire 
How     Nature     bounds    each     impotent 


des 


ire  ; 


What   she  with   ease  resigns,  or  wants 

with  pain. 
And  thus  divide  the  solid  from  the  vain  ? 


I^^Wwiji^iiSfMiH 


29 


Say,  should  your  jaws  with  thirst  severely 

burn, 
Would    you   a   cleanly    earthen    pitcher 


spurn 


? 


Should  hunger  on  your  gnawing  entrails 

seize, 
Will  turbot  only  or  a  peacock  please  ? 
Let  her  be  straight  and  fair ;  nor  wish 

to  have 
Or  height  or  colour  Nature  never  gave  : 
Then,  while  with  joy  I  woo  the  pleasing 

fair. 
What   nymph,  what  goddess,  can   with 


mine  compare 


? 


No  terrors  rise  to  interrupt  my  joys. 
No   jealous    husband,    nor    the    fearful 

noise 
Of  bursting  doors,  nor  the  loud  hideous 

yelling 
Of  barking  dogs,  that  shakes  the  matron's 

dwelling 
When  the   pale  wanton  leaps  from  oflF 

her  bed. 


30 


31 


SATIRE   III. 


TO     MAECENAS 


*■'■  Omnibus  hoc  vitium  est  cantoribus  inter 
amicos." 

All  singers  have  this  fault  —  that  if  you 

try 
To    make    them    sing,   they    never    will 

comply  : 
But     leave     them    to     themselves,    and 

unrequired 
They  '11  sing  till   all   the   company  are 

tired. 
Tigellius  had,  we  know,  this  whim  so 

strong 
That  Caesar's  self  who  might  enforce  a 

song, 
Tho'  he  conjured  him  in  a  friendly  tone 
By  all  his  father's  favours  and  his  own, 


32 


Could  not  prevail.      But,  if  the  fit  took 

place, 
Now  in  shrill  treble  —  now  in  thundering 

bass 
'T   was,  "  Bacchus,  hail !  "    when   first 

the  banquet  came. 
And  down  to  the  last  course  't  was  still 

the  same. 
Such  was  the  man  :   Impelled  by  vain 

caprice 
His  life  had  nothing  in  it  of  a  piece. 
One  day  you  saw  him  hurrying  to  and 

fro, 
As  if  he  fled  from  some  pursuing  foe  : 
Anon,  as  if  great  Juno's  pomp  to  grace. 
Marching  along  with  slow  and  solemn 

pace. 
Sometimes  he  kept  two  hundred  slaves ; 

—  and  then. 
Wait    but    a   day   or   two,   he    had    but 

ten. 
Now  in  big  phrase  he  'd  talk  of  mighty 

thin'gs. 


33 


Of  foreign  courts,  of  Tetrarchs  and  of 

Kings  : 
And      now      't      was  —  "  Grant      me. 

Heaven  !  "  ('t   is   all   I   wish) 
"  A    three-legged   table  and    an   earthen 

dish  ; 
A  cleanly  scollop-shell  my  salt  shall  hold  ; 
A  coat,  however  coarse,  may  fence  the 

cold." 
Yet,  had  you  given  amid  his  frugal  plan 
Five  thousand  pounds  to  this  abstemious 

man. 
Thus  void  of  pride,  thus  easily  content. 
Within    five    days    't  was   every    penny 

spent. 
While   others   were   awake,   he    snoring 

lay, 
Then  sat  up  all  the  night  till  break  of 

day;  — 
Ever   at    variance    with    himself.  —  But 

here 
Methinks  some   reader  whispers   in   my 

ear : 


'kfit,.,flliir.^    J 


34 


Have  you  no  faults  yourself?   I  answer, 

Yes; 
Faults  of  a  different  hue,  and  haply  less. 
When  Maenius  dared  a  brother-knave 

attack 
And   jeered   at  Novius  once  behind  his 

back, 
"  Art  thou,"  cries  one,  "  blind  to  thyself 


alone. 


Or    would'st     thou    vapour    as    to    us 

unknovi'n  ; 
Look  o'er  thine  own  past  follies." — "So 

I  do," 
Retorts   the  wag,  *'  and   overlook   them 

too." 
This   partial  self-indulgence,  void  of 

shame 
As  well  as  sense,  deserves  the  strongest 

blame. 
At    your    own    failings    while    you    leer 

askance 
With  half-closed  eye,  why  dart  this  eagle 

glance 


35 


At    others'    faults?    since    others,    it    is 

plain. 
Will  cast  as  sharp  a  gaze  at  yours  again. 
What    tho'    your   friend   be   hasty    now 

and  then, — 
Too  rough  for  the  nice  taste  of  modern 

men  ? 
What  tho'  his  beard  oft  ask  the  barber's 

skill. 
His  coat   look   shabby,  or  his   boots  fit 

ill? 
Yet,  you    might   add,   he  is  a  man    of 

parts. 
His  bosom  holds  the  very  best  of  hearts  ; 
And  in  this  rude  exterior  lurk  enshrined 
A  generous  temper  and  gigantic  mind. 
Sift  then  your  soul ;  explore  each  secret 

sin 
By  nature  or  worse  habit  sown  within  : 
For  oft  thro'  long  neglect  the  noxious 

weed 
Towers  o'er  the  crop  and   chokes  the 

rising  seed. 


Mark  how  affection  blinds  the  lover's 


He  in  his  mistress  not  a  fault  espies : 
In   her   each    blemish    seems   to    him   a 

grace, 
And    none   but   beauty-spots    adorn    her 

face. 
Balbinus,    blind    with    love,   enamoured 

grows 
Even  of  the  polypus  in  Agna's  nose. 
In  friendship  would  our  weakness  were 

the  same. 
And    dignified    with    Candour's    nobler 

name  ! 
As  parents  in  their  offspring,  so  should 

we 
Seek    to    extenuate    even    the    fault    we 

see. 
Is    the   child    squint-eyed?  —  "Oh,  the 

pretty  dear  !  " 
The  father  lisps,  "  it  has  a  roguish  leer." 
Is   it   a   dwarfish   cub,   scarce   two    feet 

high. 


37 


Like  Sisyphus  ?  —  "  Sweet   poppet !  "  is 

the  cry. 
Varus  't  is   called,  if  bandy-legged  and 

lame  : 
For  why  —  great  Varus  thence  derived 

his  name  : 
Or  is  the  darling  ricketty  ?  —  If  kissed 
And  hailed  a  Scaurus,  who  observes  the 

twist  ? 
Thus,  if  your  friend  pursue  the  saving 

plan. 
Commend  him  for  a  prudent  thrifty  man. 
Is  he  a  pert  officious  coxcomb  ?  —  Say, 
The  fellow  has  a  lively  pleasant  way. 
If  blunt,  't  is  frankness  all.     If  choleric, 
His    temper,   to   be  sure,   is  warm   and 

quick  ! 
Such  is   the   way,   methinks,   to   banish 

strife, 
To  make  men  friends  and  keep  them  so 

for  life. 
But   we   invert    the   rule,  and   magic 

spite 


38 


Transforms  even  virtues  to  their  opposite. 
Have    we   a   modest    friend  ?     We   call 

him  shy  : 
Is    he   reserved  ?     The   wretch    is    dull 

and  dry. 
Or  is  he  prompt  to  turn  off  every  blow, 
Still    on    his    guard    against    the    latent 

foe  ?  — 
(Since   life  's   a   path   where    snares   are 

spread  around 
And  ambushed  envy  deals  the  treacher- 
ous wound)  — 
For   knowledge  of  the  world   and  care 

discreet, 
We  term  it  arrant  knavery  and  deceit. 
Does  he  at  times  unwittingly  intrude, 
With  idle  prattle  innocently  rude. 
Or  on  our  busy  or  our  thinking  hours  — 
(As  I,  sir,  oft  securely  have  on  yours,) 
Teased  we  exclaim,  "  What  rank  imper- 
tinence ! 
The  blundering  booby  sure  wants  com- 
mon sense." 


39 


i^jL:^^^^:^^^::^ 


Alas  !  thus  unconcerned  we  one  and 

all 
Pronounce  the  law  by  which  ourselves 

must  fall. 
For  who  by  birth  is  faultless  ?  and  the 

best  — 
What  means  it  but  less  faulty  than  the 

rest  ? 
Let  then  the  man  that  would  be  called 

my  friend. 
Whene'er    he    weighs    my     worth,    in 

mercy  bend 
To  merit's  side  (if  merit's  side  prevail). 
And  kindly  favour  virtue's  sinking  scale. 
Slow  to  condemn  and  willing  to  esteem. 
Let  sweet  good-nature  poise  the   trem- 
bling beam. 
Let    him,    I    say,    to    these    fair    terms 

agree  ; 
And  the  same  favou^r  shall  be  shown  by 

me. 
He  (says  the  proverb)  who  would  hide  a 

wen. 


40 


At  least  should  spare  the  warts  of  other 

men  : 
Apply  the  maxim  ;  and  in  justice  you, 
Who  claim   indulgence,  must  bestow  it 

too. 
But,  since  this  vice  of  anger,  like  the 

rest. 
Can  ne'er  be  rooted  from  the  untutored 

breast, 
At  least  adjust  your  wrath  by  Reason's 

laws 
Nor    let    the    consequence    outrun    the 

cause. 
The   slave,  who,   ordered   to    remove   a 

dish. 
Sips  the  warm  sauce  or  licks  the  savoury 

fish. 
His   master    well   may   chide  —  and    so 

should  I :  — 
But  if  he  hang  the  knave  or  crucify. 
More  mad  than  Labeo  he  must  surely  be 
In  all  men's  eyes  that  were  not  mad  as 

he. 


41 


vH< 


f^ 


^^A 


Now,  how  much  worse  and  more  devoid 

of  sense 
Is  this?  —  Your   friend   commits    some 

slight  offence, 
Such  as  the  man  who  would   not  soon 

forgive 
Were  a  barbarian  churl  unfit  to  live  : 
For  this  you  scout   him  as  a  pest,   and 

shun 
Like    Ruso's    debtors    when    they    meet 

their  dun  ! 
Ruso  —  who,  when  the  dismal  month  's 

expired. 
Unless    the   wretch   can    raise   the    sum 

required, 
Bids  his  poor  prisoner  stretch  the  listen- 
ing head. 
And  with  some  long  citation  reads  him 

dead. 
My  friend  perhaps  on  some  convivial 

day 
Has    stained   with    wine    the    couch    on 

which  he  lay ; 


lU 


m 


42 


Has  thrown  a  chalice  down  of  curious 

mould. 
That  graced  Evander's  royal  hands  of 

old; 
Or,  urged  by  hunger,  reached  across  the 

dish 
To    seize    the    fattest    fowl    or    finest 

fish:  — 
For  such  small  faults  to  hate  him  were 

absurd. 
What  shall   I  do  then,  if  he  break  his 

word  ? 
What,  if  he  prove  perfidious  or  unjust,  — 
Forswear  a  contract,  or  betray  a  trust  ? 
Some  hold,  't  is  true,  that  crimes  are 

equal  all ; 
But  press  their  sophistry  with  facts,  't  will 

fall: 
It  contravenes  all  custom,  feeling,  sense. 
And   that  great   test   of  right  —  expedi- 
ence. 
What  time  amid  the  brutes  at  Nature's 

birth 


43 


Man  crawled  to  being  from  his  parent- 
earth, 
Soon  for  the  sheltering  cave  or  sylvan 

food 
Fierce   discord   rose   among   the    savage 

brood. 
At  first  with  fists  —  with  cudgels  next 

they  fought, 
And    arms    at    length    ingenious    malice 

wrought. 
Then    followed    speech,   and    names   to 

things  assigned 
Stamped  by  the  voice  the  motions  of  the 

mind. 
By  slow  degrees  they  ceased  their  brutal 

strife 
To  woo  the  gentler  arts  of  social  life, — 
To  build    the  town  ;    with   ramparts  to 

enclose ;  — 
Till  for  the  common  welfare  laws  arose  ; 
Laws,  to  deter  the  bad,  protect  the  just. 
And    curb    the    rage   of    rapine  and   of 
ust. 


-.;■ ..■■  ujij'.,""'V 


44 


For  oft,  ere  Helen,  had  weak  woman's 
charms 

Unsheathed  the  sword  and  set  the  world 
in  arms. 

But  then,  when  just  as  random  passion 
drove 

They  snatched  the  pleasures  of  promis- 
cuous love, 

(As   to   the   stoutest   bull   the    rest   will 
yield, 

Till  one  yet  stouter  drive  him  from  the 
field) 

Untutored  strength  would  soon  the  fray 
decide, 

And   thus  unknown    they   fought  —  un- 
sung they  died. 
Trace  in   the  records  of  the  historic 
page 

The  world's  vast  annals  back  from  age 
to  age. 

This  inference  from  the  search  you  needs 
must  draw  — 

That  fear  of  outrage  first  engendered  law. 


'^^' 


45 


Pleasure  from  pain,  an  evil  from  a  good 

Instinct    discerns,  —  but    never    under- 
stood 

In  what  just  actions  differ  from  unjust. 

Till  use  had  shown  the  need  of  mutual 
trust. 

Thus  right  or  wrong  is  that  which  more 
or  less 

Promotes  or  mars  the  general  happiness  : 

And  ne'er  can    he   be   proved  by   logic 
sound 

Who   snaps   a   cabbage  from  his  neigh- 
bour's ground, 

Equal   in    guilt   with  him,  who,  leaping 
o'er 

All   shame,   purloins    the    altar's   sacred 
store. 
Let   then    some    rule   be   fixt,   which 
may  dispense 

Proportioned  penalties  to  each  offence  : 

Nor  him,  whose   crime  a   ferule    might 
atone. 

Cut  with  your  bastinado  to  the  bone. 


46 


&t^jfm~ 


For,  that  you  e'er  will  err  on  mercy's 

side. 
And  when  the  furious  knout  should  be 

applied, 
Wave   the   light    rod,  quitting    the    too 

severe 
For    the    too    mild,  —  I    see    but    little 

fear  : 
While  sacrilege  and  petty  theft  you  say 
Are  equal,  and  (had  you  the  sovereign 

sway) 
Be   men's    misdeeds    however    great    or 

small, 
The  self-same  vengeance    should   await 

them  all. 
Had    you    the   sway!  —  Why   if  the 

Sage  alone 
Can  boast  all  wit,  worth,  beauty,  as  his 

own, — 
If  he  be  first  and  best  in  every  thing, 
A  shoemaker  and  "  every  inch  a  king,"  — 
Do  you  not  reign  already  ?  —  "  Prithee, 

fool !  " 


-«- 


47 


■gea- 


^^|3^ 


The  stoic  cries,  "  mistake  not  thus  the 

rule. 
Consult  Chrysippus  —  he  shall  end  the 

strife  : 
Perhaps  the  wise-man  never  in  his  life 
Made    either    shoe    or    sandal ;    yet    we 

know 
He   's   still   a   first-rate   shoemaker."  — • 

"  How  so  ?  "  — 
Was   not   Tigellius,  when   he   held    his 

tongue, 
A  singer  just  as  much  as  when  he  sung? 
Was  not  Alfenus,  when  he    closed   his 

stall, 
Packed  off  his  lasts,  and  laid  aside   his 

awl. 
Justly  considered  as  a  cobbler  still  ? 
So  then  the  Sage,  by  virtue  of  his  skill, 
Tho'  exercising  none,  may  yet  be  said 
To  be  a  perfect  master  of  each  trade  : 
He  centres  all  things  in  himself  alone. 
And   reigns  a  monarch   tho'    without   a 

throne. 


48 


But  after  all,  methinks,  great  king 
of  kings  ! 
You    sometimes    suffer   most   unroyal 

things. 
A  troop  of  dirty  boys,. that  form  your 

suite. 
Twitch  your  long  beard  and  hoot  you 

thro'  the  street. 
In  vain   you  lift   your  staff:  the  saucy 

throng 
Still  mock  your  growlings  as  you  mope 

along. 
In     short  —  while    you,    dread    sire ! 

among  the  many 
Bathe    your     illustrious    person     for    a 

penny  ;  — 
And   none,   to   swell    the    pageantry   of 

state. 
Save     dull    Crispinus,     on    your    levee 

wait ;  — 
Permit  a  fool  like  me,  when  he  offends, 
To   claim   indulgence    from    his   candid 

friends  ; 


A9 


50 


"  Eupolis  atque  Cratinus  Aristopkanesque." 

Cratinus,  Eupolis,  with  some  few  more 
Who  trod  the  comic  stage  in  days  of 

yore. 
Was    there    a    knave    or    scoundrel    of 

their  time, 
Rake,  ruffian,  thief — whatever  were  his 

crime, 
On  him  their  honest  indignation  hurled, 
And   lashed    with    freedom   a    licentious 

world. 
Close  to  their  steps  and  studious  of 

their  fame, 
His   numbers   different  —  but   his   scope 

the  same, 
Lucilius  followed,  skilled  in  taunts  severe 
To  point  at  trembling  vice  the  caustic 

jeer. 


mm. 


51 


Yet,  with  address  and  pleasantry  enough, 
His  style  was  awkward  and  his  verses 

rough. 
For  all  his  pride  unhappily  was  placed 
In  this  —  that  what  he  wrote,  he  wrote 

with  haste ; 
And  had,  while  standing  on  one  foot,  the 

power 
To  spin   his   lines   two  hundred   in   the 

hour. 
No  wonder  sure,  if  such  a  rapid  flood 
Bore   in   its  current  no  small    share    of 

mud  : 
No  wonder  if  the  hand  which  only  cared 
For  writing  fast,  wrote  much  that  might 

be  spared. 
The  toil  of  writing  well  is  death  to  such  : 
Yet,   if  not   well^   what   matters    it   how 

much  F 
See,  bold  Crispinus  boasts  such  fluent 

ease. 
He  '11  write  a  race  with  me  for  what  I 

please  ! 


52 


"  Come  on  !  Take  you  your  tablets," 
he  will  say, 

"  And  I  '11  take  mine ;  appoint  your 
place  and  day  : 

Let  umpires  watch  us  both  ;  and  let  us 
try 

"Which  can  compose  the  faster,  you  or  I." 
Thanks  to  my  stars  that  made  me  of 
a  mind 

To  brawls  and  babbling  never  much 
inclined,  — 

Patient  and  poor  in  spirit,  slow  to  boast 

And  oft,  when  most  contemned,  con- 
tented most  ! 

Go  on  then,  ye  that  list,  to  give  free  vent 

To  every  thought  within  your  bosoms 
pent ! 

Go,  ape  the  blacksmith's  leathern  lungs 
that  blow 

Till  the  fused  mass  in  ruddy  current 
flow. 

Blest  Fannius,  whose  kind  friends,  un- 
asked, combine 


53 


To  bear  his  bust  and  books  to  Phoebus' 

shrine, 
The  world  applauding!  —  while,  what- 

e'er  I  write, 
Before  that  world  I  tremble  to  recite, — 
Aware  that  satire  suits  not  gentle  ears. 
And  each  man  hates  it  —  because  each 

man  fears. 
Pick  me  a  man   at  random  from  the 

throng ;  — 
My  life  upon  't,  there  's  something  in  him 

wrong  : 
Base  envy  sours  him,  or  ambition  fires  : 
He   burns   with    lawless  love    or   worse 

desires  ; 
Or  pines  the  sculptured  silver  to  amass. 
Or    dotes    with    Albius    on    Corinthian 

brass ; 
Or  traffics  from  the  climes  of  orient  day 
To  realms  that  glow  beneath  the  setting 

ray  : 
See  how  from  port  to  port,  from  shore 

to  shore, 


A-   c    c 


54 


Urged  headlong  by  the  restless  thirst  of 

more, — 
And,    tho'    still    saving,    eager    still    to 

save, — 
Like  dust  before  the  wind,  he  skims  the 

wave  ! 
No  wonder   sure    if  these  and    such   as 

these 
The  poet  and  his  verse  alike  displease. 
Like  a  mad  bull,  they  shun  him  thro' 

the  streets ; 
*'  Beware,"  they  cry  ;  ''  he  butts   at  all 

he  meets  ! 
And  if  he  can  but  let  his  spleen  o'erflow. 
The  spiteful  creature  spares  nor  friend 

nor  foe  : 
Besides,   whate'er   he  once    has  written 

down, 
He  's  wretched  till  't  is  known  to  half  the 

town. 
And  at  the  baker's  shop  or  public  well 
Men  —  women  —  boys  the  witty  slander 

tell." 


yy< 


55 


A   few   plain   words   in   my   defence  I 

claim  ; 
First    from  the  list  of  Poets  strike  my 

name, 
For  not  the  merely  smooth  and   flowing 

line  — 
Much  less  such  loose  pedestrian  verse  as 

mine  — 
Confers   that   title.      No  —  the    Bard   is 

he 
Who    boasts    a    genius    bold,    creative, 

free ; 
Whose    fancy,    when    diviner    thoughts 

inspire. 
Springs   up  aloft   to   soar   on   wings   of 

fire  ; 
Whose    words     in    more    than    mortal 

accents  roll. 
And  echo  back  the  greatness  of  his  soul. 
Hence  some  have  doubted  if  't  were 

right  to  call 
The  Comic  Drama  poetry  at  all ; 
Since  nor  its  style  nor  matter  is  imprest 


56 


With  that  fine  rage  which  fills  the  poet's 

breast,  — 
And,  save  that  all  in  measured  cadence 

flows. 
Its  diction  differs  not  from  simple  prose. 
"  Yet,"  you  object,  "  the  father  stamps 

the  stage 
And  rates  his  son  with  more  than  prose- 
like rage. 
When  the  gay  stripling,  deaf  to  wisdom's 

lore, 
Slights  the  rich  heiress  for  the  thriftless 

whore  ; 
Or  staggering  forth,  ere  night  obscures 

the  sky. 
Waves   in  the  open  street  his  torch  on 

high." 
But,  were  Pomponius'  sire  his  son  to  see. 
Would  he  not  rave  and  scold  as  loud  as 

he? 
'T  is  not  enough  then  merely  to  inclose 
Plain  sense  in  numbers  —  which  if  you 

transpose, 


S7 


a 


La- 


The  words  were  such  as  any  man  might 

say, 
Just  like  the  ranting  father  in  the  play. 
Take    but   from    mine   or   old    Lucilius' 

rhyme 
This  regular  return  of  measured  time, — 
Let  every  line's  arrangement  be  reversed. 
And  place  the  first  word  last  —  the  last 

word  first ; 
What  's  the  result  ?  — 'T   is   poetry  no 

more. 
And  therefore  was  not  poetry  before. 
Not    so  — "  When    discord     brake    the 

ponderous  bar 
And     oped    the    adamantine    gates    of 

War  :  " 
Here    dislocate  —  distort    him,    as    you 

will;  — 
Tho'  piecemeal  torn,  you  see  the  Poet 

still. 
How  far  this  kind  of  writing  forms  or 

no 
A  proper  poem,  we  may  elsewhere  show  : 


58 


Proceed  we  now  to   that    more    serious 

head  — 
How  far  it  forms  an  object  of  just  dread, 
Caprius  and  Sulcius  with  their  bags  and 

books. 
Writs  in  their  hands  and  gibbets  in  their 

looks, 
Walk  forth   and    strike,  wherever   they 

appear. 
The  felon  and  the  thief  with  conscious 

fear. 
Yet  he  whose  hands  are  pure,  who  keeps 

his  oath. 
Nor  wrongs  his  neighbour,  may  despise 

them  both. 
Now  tho'  a  rogue,  like  Coelius,  you  may 

be, 
It  follows  not  that  Caprius  is  like  me. 
My   books  on  no  vile  stall   or  column 

stand. 
Soiled    by    Tigellius'    and    each    vulgar 

hand. 
When  I  recite  them  (which  I  seldom  do). 


M 


59 


'T  is  but  in  private  to  a  friend  or  two,  — 
At   their   request,  not   of  my  own   free 

grace,  — 
Not  before  all,  nor  yet  in  every  place. 
I    grant    that    some    less   delicate    there 

are, 
Who   spout  their   poems  in  the    public 

square,  — 
Or  in  the  bath,  where  sweetly  floats  the 

sound 
Re-echoed  by  the  vaulted  roof  around. 
Coxcombs,   thus   eager  to  obtrude  their 

rhyme, 
Feel  little  scruple  about  place  and  time. 
I   write    (you    tell    me)    with    a    base 

design, 
And  spiteful  rancour  dictates  every  line. 
Whence  and  from   whom  do  these  foul 

charges  flow  ? 
Can  any,  that  have  known  me,  tell  you 

so  ? 
The  wretch  who  can  revile   an    absent 

friend. 


60 


Or,     when     reviled,     is     backward     to 

defend ;  — 
Who  thinks  ill-nature  wit  j  and,  poorly 

proud 
To  catch  the  laughter  of  a  grinning  crowd, 
Bids  from  his  lips  the  hallowed  secret  fly, 
Or,    when    truth    fails    him,    coins    the 

blackening  lie  : 
If  such  there  be,  him^  Romans  !   it  were 

well 
To  mark  :  his  touch  is  death,  his  heart  is 

hell! 
Go,  scan  a  party  but  of  twelve,  reclined 
Around  the  genial  board,  and  you  shall 

find 
That    some  more    pert  and  overbearing 

guest 
With    saucy    jokes    bespatters    all    the 

rest  ;  — 
All  but  his  host,  —  and  him  too,  when 

the  bowl 
Gives  licence  to  the   tongue  and  bares 

the  soul. 


::':yy<f';:i)yy/:. 
•.'.••.••.•.:v-f.-.';.-.\i 


*  ■ •'.»..'■-  •^' 


'  ••-.•••••:..! 


,  •  '•#,•* 


.•■•*-.  •/  ^ 


6i 


K 


mm'm^X 


s 


Yet  he  's  a  boon  companion,  frank  and 

free  ; 
While  every  jest  is  blasphemy  in  me  : 
And  if  perchance   I  smiling  say  —  The 

fop 
Rufillus   breathes  of  perfumes  from  the 

shop, 
Gorgonius  glories  in  a  goat-like  smell,  — 
Oh  !  't  is  such  scandal  as  no  tongue  can 

tell! 
Mention  perhaps  is  in  your  presence 

made 
Of   him   who    filched   the   crown    from 

Jove's  own  head. 
Now  hear  the  censor  of  the  envenomed 


aee  ! 


pag 


Now    see    him    glow    with    friendship's 


generous  rage 


I 


Not  so ;    he  damns,  while    seeming    to 

defend  :  — 
"  Petillius  was  my  very  worthy  friend  ; 
From  early  youth  I  've  been  his  frequent 

guest. 


62 


And  many  has  he  served  at  my  request  : 
So  after  all  he  lives,  and  lives  at  large  ;  — 
Well,  'troth,  I  'm  glad ;  but  't  was  an 

ugly  charge." 
Here   is  the  honeyed   lip  and   heart  of 

coal. 
The  canker-juice  and  night-shade  of  the 

soul. 
Now,    spite   like   this,   I   'II    venture   to 

engage, 
Ne'er   stained    my  heart,  nor  e'er  shall 

stain  my  page. 
But  if  I  jest  more  freely  now  and  then, 
And  give  a  larger  licence  to  my  pen. 
Some  early  habits  wrought  into  my  frame 
Plead  my   excuse  —  if  not   support   my 

claim. 
A    tender    father    taught    my    youthful 

breast 
To  mark  the  vice  he  wished  me  to  detest, 
And  warned  me  what  to  shun  and  what 

pursue 
By  holding  apt  examples  to  my  view. 


63 


If  he  would  have  me  frugally  inclined, 
Content  with  what  himself  could  leave 

behind, 
"  Look,"    he    would    say,    "  at    Albius' 

ruined  son  ; 
See     Barrus    by    his    own    excess    un- 


one  ! 


A  useful  lesson  this  to  all  young  heirs 
To     guard     against     extravagance     like 

theirs." 
If  he  would  arm  me  'gainst  the  wanton's 

eye, 
"  Take    warning    from    Sectanus,"    he 

would  cry ; 
And  that  I  might  not  woo  the  wedded 

dame. 
While  safety  recommends  a  sanctioned 

flame, 
^'  Trebonius,"    he   would  hint,  "  kicked 

out  of  doors. 
Gained  little  credit  by  his  loose  amours. 
The  lectures  of  the  wise,  my  son,  ere 

long 


64 


Will  point  you  out  the  grounds  of  right 

and  wrong. 
Enough  for  me  if  my  poor  art  inspires 
Plain  rules  of  life  transmitted  from  our 

sires, 
Which,  while  you  need  a  guardian,  may 

secure 
Your    morals    chaste,    your    reputation 

pure  : 
When  manhood  gives  your  mind  a  firmer 

tone, 
You  '11  drop  these  corks  and   stem  the 

tide  alone." 
With  such  monitions  providently  kind 
He    moulded    to    his   will    my    youthful 

mind  : 
And  if  he  urged  me  to  a  virtue,  "  See, 
For  this   you   've  good  authority,"   said 

he: 
"  Copy  that  man's  example,"  —  holding 

forth 
Some  judge  or  statesman  of  acknowledged 

worth. 


65 


If  he  would  frighten  me  from  something 

base, 
'T  was  then  —  "That  such  things  lead 

but  to  disgrace 
Henceforth  you  can  not  doubt ;  for  mark, 

my  son, 
The    bad    repute    of    such,   or    such    a 

one." 
Just  as  a  neighbour's  funeral  passing  near 
Strikes    the   sick  glutton  with  a  whole- 
some fear. 
So,  when  it  meets  the  tender  stripling's 

eyes. 
Another's  shame   oft   warns    him  to  be 

wise. 
Well,  thanks  then  to  a  parent's  timely 

care. 
Such  crimes  as  tend  to  ruin  and  despair 
Taint    not    my   soul.     To   some   small 

faults  indeed. 
Some  venial  frailties,  guilty  still  I  plead. 
And    haply    these    too    may   in    time   be 

brought 


66 


To    yield   to  friendly  counsel  and  sage 

thought : 
For,    whether    on    my    couch    supinely 

laid 
Or  sauntering  in  the  public  colonnade, 
Still  to  myself  some  lesson  I  impart. 
And  thus  in  secret  commune  with  my 

heart : 
Here  duty  points  ;  —  this   path  to  com- 
fort tends  ;  — 
Thus   I   may   win   the  affections  of  my 

friends  ;  — 
This  or  that  folly  be  it  mine  to  shun 
Taught  by  the  fate  of  such  or  such  a 

one. 
Such  are  my  dumb  soliloquies  :   when 

time 
Permits,  I  pen    them    down   in   sportive 

rhyme ; 
A  practice  to  be  numbered,  I  allow. 
Among  those  lighter  faults  I  named  just 

now. 
But  if,  extreme  to  mark  what  is  amiss. 


67 


68 


SATIRE   V. 

JOURNEY    TO    BRUNDUSIUM 

"  Egressum  magna  me  excepit  Aricia  Roma.** 

'T  ^VAS  a  long  journey  lay  before  us, 
When  I  and  honest  Heliodorus, 
(Who  far  in  point  of  rhetoric 
Surpasses  every  living  Greek,) 
Each  leaving  our  respective  home 
Together  sallied  forth  from  Rome. 

First  at  Aricia  we  alight, 
And  there  refresh  and  pass  the  night, 
Our  entertainment  rather  coarse 
Than    sumptuous,  but   I   've   met   with 

worse. 
Thence  o'er  the  causeway  soft  and  fair 
To  Appii-forum  we  repair. 
But  as  this  road  is  well  supplied 
(Temptation  strong  !)  on  either  side 


^1 


69 


•  .;..•..-.■.■•. '. 

■•..:••..•:••••••••.•.••: 


With  inns  commodious,  snug,  and  warm, 
We  split  the  journey,  and  perform 
In  two  days'  time  what  's  often  done 
By  brisker  travellers  in  one. 
Here  rather  choosing  not  to  sup 
Than  with  bad  water  mix  my  cup, 
After  a  warm  debate  in  spite 
Of  a  provoking  appetite, 
I  sturdily  resolved  at  last 
To  balk  it,  and  pronounce  a  fast, 
And  in  a  moody  humour  wait. 
While  my  less  dainty  comrades  bait. 
Now  o'er  the  spangled  hemisphere 
Diffused  the  starry  train  appear, 
When  there  arose  a  desperate  brawl ; 
The  slaves  and  bargemen,  one  and  all, 
Rending   their   throats  (have    mercy   on 

us!) 
As  if  they  were  resolved  to  stun  us. 
"  Steer  the  barge  this  way  to  the  shore  ! 
I  tell  you  we  '11  admit  no  more  ! 
Plague  !   will  you  never  be  content  ?  " 
Thus  a  whole  hour  at  least  is  spent, 


70 


i 


While  they  receive  the  several  fares, 
And  kick  the  mule  into  his  gears. 
Happy,  these  difficulties  past, 
Could  we  have  fallen  asleep  at  last ! 
But,  what  with  humming,  croaking,  bit- 


ing, 


<> 


Gnats,  frogs,  and  all  their  plagues  unit- 
ing, 
These  tuneful  natives  of  the  lake 

Conspired  to  keep  us  broad  awake. 
Besides,  to  make  the  concert  full. 
Two  maudlin  wights,  exceeding  dull, 
The  bargeman  and  a  passenger. 
Each  in  his  turn,  essayed  an  air 
In  honour  of  his  absent  fair. 
At  length  the  passenger,  opprest 

^^  With  wine,  left  off,  and  snored  the  rest. 

'        The  weary  bargeman  too  gave  o'er. 
And  hearing  his  companion  snore. 
Seized  the  occasion,  fixed  the  barge. 
Turned  out  his  mule  to  graze  at  large. 
And  slept  forgetful  of  his  charge. 
And  now  the  sun  o'er  eastern  hill. 


71 


,j&. 


Discovered  that  our  barge  stood  still ; 
When  one,  whose  anger  vext  him  sore, 
With    malice    fraught,    leaps    quick    on 

shore, 
Plucks  up  a  stake,  with  many  a  thwack 
Assails  the  mule  and  driver's  back. 

Then  slowly  moving  on  with  pain. 
At  ten  Feronia's  stream  we  gain. 
And  in  her  pure  and  glassy  wave 
Our  hands  and  faces  gladly  lave. 
Climbing  three  miles,  fair  Anxur's  height 
We  reach,  with  stony  quarries  white. 
While  here,  as  was  agreed,  we  wait. 
Till,  charged  with  business  of  the  state, 
Maecenas  and  Cocceius  come, 
The  messengers  of  peace  from  Rome. 
My  eyes,  by  watery  humours  blear 
And  sore,  I  with  black  balsam  smear. 
At  length  they  join  us,  and  with  them 
Our  worthy  friend  Fonteius  came ; 
A  man  of  such  complete  desert, 
Antony  loved  him  at  his  heart. 
At  Fundi  we  refused  to  bait. 


72 


•^ 


And  laughed  at  vain  Aufidius'  state, 
A  praetor  now,  a  scribe  before. 
The  purple-bordered  robe  he  wore, 
His  slave  the  smoking  censor  bore. 
Tired,  at  Muraena's  we  repose, 
At  Formia  sup  at  Capito's. 

With  smiles  the  rising  morn  we  greet. 
At  Sinuessa  pleased  to  meet 
With  Plotius,  Varius,  and  the  bard 
Whom  Mantua  first  with  wonder  heard. 
The  world  no  purer  spirits  knows ; 
For  none  my  heart  more  warmly  glows. 
Oh  !   what  embraces  we  bestowed. 
And    with   what   joy    our    breasts    o'er- 

flowed  ! 
Sure  while  my  sense  is  sound  and  clear. 
Long  as  I  live,  I  shall  prefer 
A  gay,  good-natured,  easy  friend. 
To  every  blessing  Heaven  can  send. 
At  a  small  village,  the  next  night. 
Near  the  Volturnus  we  alight ; 
Where,  as  employed  on  state  affairs. 
We  were  supplied  by  the  purveyors 


71 


Frankly  at  once,  and  without  hire, 
With  food  for  man  and  horse,  and  fire. 
Capua  next  day  betimes  we  reach, 
Where  Vergil  and  myself,  who  each 
Laboured  with  different  maladies. 
His  such  a  stomach, —  mine  such  eyes,  — 
As  would  not  bear  strong  exercise. 
In  drowsy  mood  to  sleep  resort ; 
Maecenas  to  the  tennis-court. 
Next  at  Cocceius's  farm  we  're  treated, 
Above  the  Caudian  tavern  seated  ; 
His  kind  and  hospitable  board 
With    choice    of  wholesome    food    was 
stored. 
Now,  O  ye  Nine,  inspire  my  lays  ! 
To  nobler  themes  my  fancy  raise  ! 
Two  combatants,  who  scorn  to  yield 
The  noisy,  tongue-disputed  field, 
Sarmentus  and  Cicirrus,  claim 
A  poet's  tribute  to  their  fame ; 
Cicirrus  of  true  Oscian  breed, 
Sarmentus,  who  was  never  freed. 
But  ran  away.     We  won't  defame  himj 


^  '^ 


74 


His  lady  lives,  and  still  may  claim  him. 
Thus  dignified,  in  harder  fray 
These    champions    their    keen   wit   dis- 
play. 
And  first  Sarmentus  led  the  way. 
*■*'  Thy  locks,"  quoth  he,  "  so  rough  and 

coarse. 
Look  like  the  mane  of  some  wild  horse." 
We  laugh  :   Cicirrus  undismayed  — 
"Have    at    you!" — cries,   and    shakes 

his   head. 
"  'T  is  well,"  Sarmentus  says,  "  you  've 

lost 
That    horn    your    forehead    once    could 

boast ; 
Since  maimed  and  mangled  as  you  are, 
You  seem  to  butt,"     A  hideous  scar 
Improved  ('t  is  true)  with  double  grace 
The  native  horrors  of  his  face. 
Well.     After  much  jocosely  said 
Of  his  grim  front,  so  fiery  red, 
(For  carbuncles  had  blotched  it  o'er, 
As  usual  on  Campania's  shore,) 


75 


"  Give  us,"  he  cried,  "  since  you  're  so 

big, 
A  sample  of  the  Cyclops  jig  ! 
Your  shanks,  methinks,  no  buskins  ask. 
Nor  does  your  phiz  require  a  mask." 
To  this  Cicirrus  :  "  In  return 
Of  you,  sir,  now  I  fain  would  learn. 
When  't  was,  no  longer  deemed  a  slave, 
Your  chains  you  to  the  Lares  gave. 
For  though  a  scrivener's  right  you  claim. 
Your  lady's  title  is  the  same. 
But  what  could  make  you  run  away. 
Since,  pigmy  as  you  are,  each  day 
A  single  pound  of  bread  would  quite 
O'erpower  your  puny  appetite  ?  " 
Thus   joked    the   champions,   while    we 

laughed. 
And  many  a  cheerful  bumper  quaffed. 

To  Beneventum  next  we  steer; 
Where  our  good  host,  by  over  care 
In  roasting  thrushes  lean  as  mice. 
Had  almost  fallen  a  sacrifice. 
The  kitchen  soon  was  all  on  fire. 


ye 


And  to  the  roof  the  flames  aspire. 
There    might    you    see    each    man    and 

master 
Striving,  amidst  this  sad  disaster, 
To  save  the  supper.     Then  they  came 
With  speed  enough  to  quench  the  flame. 
From  hence  we  first  at  distance  see 
The  Apulian  hills,  well  known  to  me. 
Parched  by  the  sultry  western  blast ; 
And  which  we  never  should  have  passed, 
Had  not  Trivicus  by  the  way 
Received  us  at  the  close  of  day. 
But  each  was  forced  at  entering  here 
To  pay  the  tribute  of  a  tear, 
For  more  of  smoke  than  fire  was  seen  ; 
The  hearth  was  piled  with  logs  so  green. 
From  hence  in  chaises  we  were  carried 
Miles  twenty-four,  and  gladly  tarried 
At  a  small  town,  whose  name  my  verse 
(So  barbarous  is  it)  can't  rehearse. 
Know  it  you  may  by  many  a  sign, 
Water  is  dearer  far  than  wine. 
There  bread  is  deemed  such  dainty  fare, 


77 


i>s>a 


That  every  prudent  traveller 

His  u'allet  loads  with  many  a  crust ; 

For  at  Canusium,  you  might  just 

As  well  attempt  to  gnaw  a  stone 

As  think  to  get  a  morsel  down. 

That  too  with  scanty  streams  is  fed  j 

Its  founder  was  brave  Diomed. 

Good  Varius  (ah,  that  friends  must  part !) 

Here  left  us  all  with  aching  heart. 

At  Rubi  we  arrived  that  day. 

Well  jaded  by  the  length  of  way, 

And  sure  poor  mortals  ne'er  were  wetter. 

Next  day  no  weather  could  be  better ; 

No  roads  so  bad  ;   we  scarce  could  crawl 

Along  to  fishy  Barium's  wall. 

The  Egnatians  next,  who  by  the  rules 

Of  common  sense  are  knaves  or  fools, 

Made  all  our  sides  with  laughter  heave. 

Since  we  with  them  must  needs  believe, 

That  incense  in  their  temples  burns. 

And  without  fire  to  ashes  turns. 

To  circumcision's  bigots  tell 

Such  tales  !   for  me,  I  know  full  well, 


78 


79 


TO  M^CENAS 
•'  Non,  quia  Mcecenas,  Lydorum  quidquid  Etrusco." 

Though,   since   the  Lydians   filled   the 

Tuscan  coasts, 
No  richer  blood  than  yours  Etruria  boasts; 
Though  your  great  ancestors  have  armies 

led. 
You    don't,    as    many    do,    with    scorn 

upbraid 
The  man  of  birth  unknown,  or  turn  the 

nose 
On  me,  who  from  a  race  of  slaves  arose  : 
While   you   regard   not   from   what   low 

degree 
A  man  's  descended,  if  his  mind  be  free; 
Convinced,  that  long  before  the  ignoble 

reign 


80 


And    power   of  Tullius,  from  a  servile 

train 
Full  many  rose  for  virtue  high  renowned, 
By   worth    ennobled,  and   with    honours 

crowned  ; 
While  he,  who  boasts  that  ancient  race 

his  own* 
Which  drove  the  haughty  Tarquin  from 

the  throne. 
Is  vile  and  worthless  in  the  poet's  eyes  : 
The  people,  who,  you  know,  bestow  the 

prize 
To  men  most  worthless,  and,  like  slaves 

to  fame, 
With     foolish     reverence    hail     a    titled 

name  ; 
And,  rapt  with    awe-struck   admiration, 

gaze 
When  the  long  race  its  images  displays. 
But  how  shall  we,  who  differ  far  and 

wide 
From  the  mere  vulgar,  this  great  point 

decide  ? 


8i 


r^^ 


./>^ 


ff^ 


For  grant,  the  crowd  some  high-birthed 

scoundrel  choose, 
And    to    the    low-born    man    of   worth 

refuse 
(Because  low-born)  the  honours  of  the 

state. 
Shall  we  from  thence  their  vice  or  virtue 

rate  ? 
Were  I  expelled  the  senate-house  with 

scorn, 
Justly,    perhaps,    because    thus    meanly 

born, 
I     fondly    wandered     from     my    native 

sphere ; 
Yet  shall  I  with  less  real  worth  appear  ? 
Chained  to  her  beamy  car   Fame  drags 

along 
The  mean,  the  great  ;  an  undistinguished 

throng. 
Poor  Tillius,  when  compelled  in  luck- 
less hour 
To  quit  your  purple  robe  and  tribune's 

power. 


m 


82 


A  larger  share  of  envy  was  thy  fate. 
Which   had  been    lessened  in  a  private 

state  ; 
For  in  black  sandals,  when  a  coxcomb  's 

drest, 
When    floats  the  robe  impurpled   down 

his  breast, 
Instant,  "  What  man  is  this  ?  "  he  round 

him  hears  ; 
"  And  who  his  father  ?  "     As  when  one 

appears 
Sick  of  your  fever,  Barrus,  to  desire 
That   all  the   world    his   beauty    should 

admire. 
Anxious  our  girls  inquire,  "  What  mien 

and  air. 
What  leg  and  foot  he  has,  what  teeth 

and  hair  ?  " 
So  he,  who  promises  to  guard  the  state. 
The  gods,  the  temples,  and  the  imperial 

seat 
Makes    every    mortal    ask    his    father's 


83 


And    not    less   curious   of   his   mother's 

fame. 

"  And  shall  a  Syrian's  son,  like  you, 
presume 
To  hurl  the  freeborn  citizens  of  Rome 
From   the   Tarpeian  rock's   tremendous 

height, 
Or  to  the  hangman  Cadmus  give  their 

fate  ?  " 
Tillius.      My  colleague  sits  below  me 

one  degree, 
For  Novius,  like  my  father,  was  made 

free. 
Horace.     Shall    you    for    this    a    true 

Messala  seem, 
And    rise    a    Paulus    in    your    own    es- 
teem ? 
But  when  two  hundred  waggons  crowd 

the  street. 
And    three    long    funerals   in    procession 

meet. 
Beyond  the  fifes  and  horns  his  voice  he 


, ■'■.-.' .'':.-■;  .■■■■■'  'K">V.'.''.'y 


Sliv-^:  •  J^.y;?\T '  ■vy;':^: 


84 


And  sure  such  strength  of  lungs  a  won- 
drous praise  is. 
As    for    myself,    a     freedman's     son 
confest ; 

A  freedman's  son,  the  public  scorn   and 
jest. 

That    now   with    you    I  joy    the   social 
hour, 

—  That  once  a  Roman  legion  owned  my 
power ; 

But  tho'  they  envied  my  command  in  war, 

Justly  perhaps,  yet  sure  't  is  different  far 

To  gain  your  friendship,  where  no  ser- 
vile art, 

Where  only  men  of  merit  claim  a  part. 
Nor  yet   to  chance   this    happiness   I 
owe  j 

Friendship    like    yours    it    had    not    to 
bestow. 

First,   my  best   Vergil,  then   my  Varius 
told. 

Among    my    friends    what    character    I 
hold; 


.•:'i'.'''-''v'-';;''j,< 


iCSS:  1 ',:  ■. :.; 


85 


When   introduced,  in   few  and   faltering 

words 
(Such  as  an  infant  modesty  affords) 
I    did    not    tell    you    my    descent    was 

great. 
Or  that  I  wandered  round  my  country 

seat 
On    a    proud    steed    in    richer    pastures 

bred  : 
But  what  I  really  was,  I  frankly  said. 
Short  was  your  answer,  in  your  usual 

strain  ; 
I  take  my  leave,  nor  wait  on  you  again 
Till,  nine  months  past,  engaged  and  bid 

to  hold 
A     place    among    your     nearer     friends 

enrolled. 
An    honour    this,   methinks,   of    nobler 

kind. 
That    innocent    of   heart   and    pure    of 

mind, 
Tho'  with  no  titled  birth,  I  gained   his 

love. 


86 


Whose    judgment    can    discern,    whose 

choice  approve. 
If  some  few  venial  faults  deform  my 

soul, 
(Like  a  fair  face   when  spotted  with  a 

mole,) 
If  none  with   avarice  justly  brand    my 

fame, 
With   sordidness,  or   deeds   too   vile   to 

name  : 
If  pure  and  innocent :   if  dear  (forgive 
These  little  praises)  to  my  friends  I  live, 
My  father  was  the  cause,  who,  though 

maintained 
By  a  lean  farm  but  poorly,  yet  disdained 
The  country  schoolmaster,  to  whose  low 

care 
The  mighty  captain  sent  his  high-born 

heir. 
With    satchel,  copy-book,   and    pelf  to 

pay 
The  wretched  teacher  on  the  appointed 

day. 


•^< 


a 


87 


■::■■  ■■-,,\^'i.^',' 


To  Rome  by  this  bold  father  was  I 

brought, 
To    learn    those    arts    which    well-born 

youth  are  taught ; 
So  dressed  and  so  attended,  you  would 

swear 
I  was  some  senator's  expensive  heir ; 
Himself   my   guardian,   of   unblemished 

truth, 
Among     my    tutors    would    attend    my 

youth. 
And  thus  preserved  my  chastity  of  mind 
(That  prime  of  virtue  in  its  highest  kind) 
Not  only  pure  from  guilt,  but  even  the 

shame 
That  might  with  vile  suspicion  hurt  my 

fame ; 
Nor  feared  to  be  reproached,  altho'  my 

fate 
Should  fix  my  fortune  in  some  meaner 

state, 
From    which     some    trivial    perquisites 

arise. 


88 


Or  make  me,  like  himself,  collector  of 

excise. 
For  this  my  heart,  far  from  complain- 
ing, pays 
A  larger  debt  of  gratitude  and  praise  ; 
Nor,  while  my  senses  hold,  shall  I  repent 
Of  such  a  father,  nor  with  pride  resent, 
As  many  do,  the  involuntary  disgrace 
Not  to  be  born  of  an  illustrious  race. 
But  not  with  theirs  my  sentiments  agree. 
Or    language ;     for    if    Nature    should 

decree 
That  we   from  any   stated   point   might 

live 
Our   former    years,   and    to   our   choice 

should  give 
The   sires,   to  whom  we  wished   to  be 

allied. 
Let  others  choose  to  gratify  their  pride  : 
While  I,  contented  with  my  own,  resign 
The  titled  honours  of  an  ancient  line. 
This   may  be   madness    in   the   people's 

eyes. 


i^-a-.--^!^:^ 


89 


But    in    your    judgment    not,    perhaps, 

unwise  ; 
That  I  refuse  to  bear  a  pomp  of  state, 
Unused  and  much  unequal  to  the  weight. 
Instant     a    larger     fortune     must     be 

made  ; 
To   purchase   votes,   my   low   addresses 

paid  ; 
Whether  a  jaunt  or  journey  I  propose. 
With  me  a  crowd  of  new  companions 

goes; 
While,  anxious  to  complete  a  length  of 

train. 
Domestics,  horses,  chariots,  I  maintain. 
But  now,  as   chance  or  pleasure  is  my 

guide. 
Upon  my  bob-tailed  mule  alone  I  ride. 
Galled  is  his  crupper  with  my  wallet's 

weight ; 
His  shoulder  shows  his  rider's  awkward 

seat. 
Yet   no  penurious  vileness  e'er  shall 

stain 


90 


My  name ;  as  when,  great  Praetor,  with 

your  train 
Of  five  poor  slaves,  you  carry  where  you 

dine 
Your  travelling  kitchen,  and  your  flask 

of  wine. 
Thus  have  I  greater  blessings  in  my 

power 
Than  you,  proud  Senator,  and  thousands 

more. 
Alone  I  wander,  as  by  fancy  led, 
I    cheapen   herbs,  or   ask   the    price   of 

bread  ; 
I  listen,  while  diviners  tell  their  tale. 
Then    homeward    hasten    to    my    frugal 

meal, 
Herbs,  pulse,  and  pancakes  ;  each  a  sep- 
arate plate  ; 
While    three    domestics    at    my   supper 

wait. 
A  bowl  on  a  white  marble  table  stands. 
Two  goblets,  and  an  ewer  to  wash  my 

hands ; 


91 


A  hallowed  cup  of  true  Campanian  clay 
My  pure  libations  to  the  gods  to  pay. 
I  then  retire  to  rest,  nor  anxious  fear 
Before  dread  Marsyas  early  to  appear, 
Whose   very   statue    swears    it   can    not 

brook 
The  meanness  of  that  slave-born  judge's 

look. 
I   sleep  till   ten  ;    then  take  a  walk,  or 

choose 
A  book  perhaps,  or  trifle  with  the  muse  : 
For  cheerful  exercise  and  manly  toil 
Anoint  my  body  with  the  pliant  oil. 
But  not  with  such  as  Natta's,  when  he 

vamps 
His    filthy    limbs,   and    robs    the    public 

lamps. 
But   when    the    sun    pours   down    his 

fiercer  fire. 
And    bids    me    from   the  toilsome    sport 

retire, 
I  haste  to  bathe,  then  decently  regale 
My  craving  stomach  with  a  frugal  meal, 


92 


93 


Proscripti  Regis  Rupili  pus  atque  venerium'* 


How  half-bred  Persius  clipped  the  ven- 

omed  stin£^ 
Of    that     pert    outlaw    hight     Rupilius 

King, 
Gagged  his  foul  mouth  and  put  his  ran- 
cour down  — 
Is  known  through  all  the  barbers'  shops 

in  town. 
Much  wealth  by  usury  had  this  Persius 

made 
And     still     in     Asia     drove    a    thriving 

trade  ; 
With  King  too  now  he  urged  a  teasing 

suit, 
Sturdy  as  he  and  keenly  resolute, 
With  slang  so  glib  as  left  on  wings  o' 

th'  wind 


94 


Sisenna,    Barrus,    many    a    length    be- 
hind. 
But    to    my    tale :  —  When     neither 

would  concede 
And    each    resolved    to    conquer    or    to 

bleed  - — 
For  warriors   still  are  least  disposed   to 

yield 
Who  most  have  proved  their  prowess  in 

the  field, 
As  Hector  and  Achilles  wont  to  swell 
With  mutual  rage  that  death  alone  could 

quell  — 
Why    but    because    for  feats  of    valour 

known 
Each  claimed  the  prize  of  glory  for  his 

own  ?  — 
While  cowards,  when  they  quarrel,  soon 

retreat ; 
And,  when    unequal   champions   chance 

to  meet, 
The  weak  with  proffered  gifts  redeems 

his  head. 


95 


^\ 


As  whilome  Glaucus  did  to  Diomed  — 
Bent    then    on    law,    what    time    great 

Brutus  bore 
Praetorian  sway  on  Asia's  fertile  shore, 
Forth   step    the   combatants,   a   doughty 

pair ; 
And    here    Rupilius   stands,  and   Persius 

there. 
Never  did  nobler  spectacle  qngage 
The   eye,  or  stouter   champions   mount 

the  stage. 
Persius    first    states   the   case,   till    all 

around 
Loud  peals  of  laughter  through  the  court 

resound. 
Brutus    and  all  his  suite  he  loads   with 

praise, — 
Calls  him  a  Sun  which  sheds  its  kindly 

rays 
On  Asia's  coast;  and  all  the  rest,  save 

King, 
Planets   that   rise  with   healing    in  their 

wing : 


96 


Him    a    vile    Dog-star,    hateful    to    the 

swain, 
That   carries   death   and    famine    in    its 

train. 
Thus  rolled  his  tide  of  eloquence  along  ; 
The  wintry  torrent  not  more  bold  and 

strong, 
Which    sweeps   its  way  through  forests 

of  high  oak 
That    never   echoed    to   the   woodman's 

stroke  ! 
Przeneste's  son  now  rises  and  replies 
With  biting  taunts  and  foul  scurrilities. 
Rank  as  vine-dressers  fling,  when  perched 

on  high 
They    hear   the    cuckoo    in    each    pass- 
erby. 
Nettled  with  these  home  gibes,  uprose 

the  Greek 
With   brief   rejoinder :    "  Brutus  !    hear 

me  speak ; 
Thy  sires  were  patriots  in  Rome's  earlier 

day. 


97 


98 


SATIRE   VIII. 

COMPLAINT    OF    PRIAPUS 

"  Olim  truncus  eram  ficulntis,  inutile  lignum" 

In  days  of  yore  our  godship  stood, 
A  very  worthless  log  of  wood, 
The  joiner  doubting,  or  to  shape  us 
Into  a  stool,  or  a  Priapus, 
At  length  resolved,  for  reasons  wise, 
Into  a  god  to  bid  me  rise ; 
And  now  to  birds  and  thieves  I  stand 
A  terror  great.     With  ponderous  hand. 
And  something  else  as  red  as  scarlet, 
I  fright  away  each  filching  varlet. 
The  birds,  that  view  with  awful  dread 
The  reeds,  fast  stuck  into  my  head, 
Far  from  the  garden  take  their  flight. 
Nor  on  the  trees  presume  to  light. 
In  coffins  vile  the  herd  of  slaves 


99 


4*  l» 

Were    hither    brought    to    crowd    their 

graves ; 
And  once  in  this  detested  ground 
A  common  tomb  the  vulgar  found  ; 
Buffoons  and  spendthrifts,  vile  and  base, 
Together  rotted  here  in  peace. 
A  thousand  feet  the  front  extends, 
Three  hundred  deep  in  rear  it  bends. 
And  yonder  column  plainly  shows 
No  more  unto  its  heirs  it  goes. 
But  now  we  breathe  a  purer  air, 
And  walk  the  sunny  terrace  fair. 
Where  once  the  ground  with  bones  was 

white, 
—  With  human  bones,  a  ghastly  sight ! 
But,  oh  !   nor  thief,  nor  savage  beast. 
That  used  these  gardens  to  infest. 
E'er  gave  me  half  such  cares  and  pains 
As  they,  who  turn  poor  people's  brains 
With  venomed  drugs  and  magic  lay  — 
These  I  can  never  fright  away  ; 
For  when  the  beauteous  queen  of  night 
Uplifts  her  head  adorned  with  light. 


lOO 


Hither  they  come,  pernicious  crones  ! 
To  gather  poisonous  herbs  and  bones. 

Canidia  with  dishevelled  hair 
(Black  was  her  robe,  her  feet  were  bare). 
With  Sagana,  infernal  dame  ! 
Her  elder  sister,  hither  came. 
With  yellings  dire  they  filled  the  place, 
And  hideous  pale  was  cither's  face. 
Soon  with   their   nails  they   scraped  the 

ground, 
And  filled  a  magic  trench  profound 
With    a    black    lamb's    thick-streaming 

gore. 
Whose  members  with   their   teeth  they 

tore. 
That  they  may  charm  the  sprites  to  tell 
Some  curious  anecdotes  from  hell. 
The  beldams  then  two  figures  brought ; 
Of    wool    and    wax    the    forms    were 

wrought  : 
The  woollen  was  erect  and  tall, 
And  scourged  the  waxen  image  small. 
Which  in  a  suppliant,  servile  mood 


::;.*r.v-:r..- :.•;•.•.!♦ 
r  ;•:.•;.  •.•••.vvv.;-' 

••  ■ :  *■•.'•  '•"'••  '.V  '..•.• 


.  ♦*.* 


lOI 


iiM*^*^' 


•^f'^'mrX 


With  dying  air  just  gasping  stood. 

On  Hecate  one  beldam  calls  ; 
The  other  to  the  Furies  bawls, 
While  serpents  crawl  along  the  ground, 
And  Stygian  she-dogs  howl  around. 
The  blushing  moon,  to  shun  the  sight. 
Behind  a  tomb  withdrew  her  light. 

Oh  !   if  I  lie,  may  ravens  shed 
Their  ordure  on  my  sacred  head  ! 

Not  to  be  tedious,  or  repeat 
How  flats  and  sharps  in  concert  meet. 
With  which  the  ghosts  and  hags  main- 
tain 
A  dialogue  of  passing  strain  ; 
Or  how,  to  hide  the  tooth  of  snake 
And    beard   of   wolf,   the    ground    they 

break  : 
Or  how  the  fire  of  magic  seized 
The  waxen  form,  and  how  it  blazed  ; 
Mark  how  my  vengeance  I  pursued 
For  all  I  heard,  for  all  I  viewed. 

Loud  as  a  bladder  bursts  its  wind. 
Dreadful  it  thundered  from  behind. 


102 


I03 


SATIRE  IX. 


THE   BORE 


>^ 


"  Iham  forte  Via  Sacra,  sicut  meus  est  mos." 

Along  the  Sacred  Street  I  chanced  to 

stray 
Musing  I  know  not  what,  as  is  my  way. 
And   wholly   wrapt   in   thought  —  when 

up  there  came 
A  fellow  scarcely  known  to  me  by  name  : 
Grasping   my   hand,  "  My   dear   friend, 

how  d'  ye  do  ? 
And    pray,"   he    cried,  "  how  wags    the 

world  with  you  ?  " 
*'  I  thank  you,  passing  well,  as  times  go 

now  ; 
Your    servant :  "  —  And    with    that     1 

made  my  bow. 
But  finding  him  still  dangle  at  my  sleeve 


104 


Without    the    slightest    sign    of   taking 

leave, 

I  turn  with  cold  civility  and  say  — 
*'  Anything  further,  Sir,  with  me  to-day  ? " 
—  "  Nay,  truce  with  this  reserve  !   it  is 

but  fit 
We   two   were    friends,   since    I    'm    a 

brother-wit," 
Here  some  dull  compliment  I  stammered 

out. 
As,  "  That,  Sir,  recommends  you  much 

no  doubt." 
Vext  to  the  soul  and  dying  to  be  gone, 
I    slacken    now    my    pace,    now    hurry 

on  ; 
And    sometimes    halt    at    once    in    full 

career, 
Whispering   some  trifle  in   my  lackey's 

ear. 
But  when  he  still  stuck  by  me  as  be- 
fore, — 
Sweating    with    inward   spleen   at   every 

pore, 


;'.".'v/',"'  .■.-  --.•■■:..-. 


105 


V,. 


Oh !  how   I   longed   to   let   my    passion 

pass, 
And  sighed,  Bolanus,  for  thy   front  of 

brass  ! 
Meanwhile  he  keeps  up  one  incessant 

chat 
About   the   streets,  the   houses,   and   all 

that : 
Marking  at  last  my  silence  —  "Well," 

said  he, 
"  'T   is  pretty  plain  you  're  anxious  to 

get  free  : 
But  patience,  darling  Sir  !  so  lately  met  — 
Odslife  !   I  can  not  think  of  parting  yet. 
Inform   me,  whither  are  your  footsteps 

bound  ?  " 
"  To  see  (but  pray  don't  let  me  drag  you 

round) 
A  friend  of  mine,  who  lies  extremely  ill 
A   mile   beyond   the   bridge,  or    further 

still."  — 
"  Nay  then,  come  on  !  I  've  nothing  else 

to  do ; 


1 06 


And  as  to  distance,  what  is  that  —  with 

you  !  " 
On     hearing    this,    quite     driven    to 

despair, 
Guess    what    my    looks    and    what    my 

feelings  were  ! 
Never  did  ass  upon  the  public  road, 
When    on    his    back    he    felt   a   double 

load. 
Hang  both   his   ears   so   dismal   and   so 

blank. 
"  In    me.   Sir,"    he    continues,    "  to    be 

frank. 
You  know  not  what  a  friend  you  have 

in  store  : 
Viscus  and  Varius  will  not  charm  you 

more. 
For   as    to  dancing,  who  with    me   can 

vie  ? 
Or  who  can  scribble  verse  so  fast  as  I  ? 
Again,  in    powers  of  voice  so  much  I 

shine 
Hermogenes  himself  might  envy  mine." 


107 


Here  for  a  moment,  puffed  with  self- 
applause, 
He  stopt ;  I  took  advantage  of  the  pause  : 
"  These   toils    will    shorten,   sure,  your 

precious  life ; 
Have  you  no  loving  mother,  friend,  or 

wife  ; 
Who  takes  an  interest  in  your  fate  ?  " — 

"Oh,  no; 
Thank  heaven  !  they  're  all  disposed  of 

long  ago." 
"  Good    luck   (thought    I),   by   thee    no 

longer  vext !  " 
So    I,    it    seems,    must    be    disposed   of 

next : 
Well,   let    me    but    at    once    resign    my 

breath  ; 
To  die  by  inches  thus  were  worse  than 

death. 
Now,  now  I  see  the  doom  approaching 

near. 
Which  once  was   told   me  by  a   gossip 

seer : 


1 08 


While  yet  a  boy,  the  wrinkled  beldam 

shook 
Her  urn,  and,  eyeing  me   with   piteous 

look, 
"  Poor   lad  !  "  she  cried,  "  no  mischief 

shalt  thou  feel 
Or    from   the  poisoned  bowl  or  hostile 

steel ; 
Nor  pricking  pleurisy,  nor  hectic  cough, 
Nor    slow-consuming    gout    shall    take 

thee  off: 
'T  is  thy  sad  lot,  when  grown  to  man's 

estate, 

To  fall  the  victim  of  a  puppy's  prate  : 
Go,  treasure  in  thy  mind  the  truths  I  've 


sunf 


And  shun,  if  thou  art  wise,  a  chattering 

tongue." 
At  Vesta's  temple  we  arrived  at  last ; 
And    now  one  quarter  of  the  day  was 

past  — 
When   by   the   greatest   luck  he  had,  I 

found. 


109 


•. ,        ^« ••« 


t  •..•.•..■*••-..*•.; 
: '•'.••.■■}■:'.:  ■•.':•:•: 


To   stand   a   suit,  and  by  the  law  was 

bound 

Either  to  answer  to  the  charges  brought, 
Or  else  to  suffer  judgment  by  default, 
"  I    'm    sorry    to    detain    you    here,"    he 

cried  ; 
"  But    might    I    ask    you    just    to    step 

aside  ? " 
*'  You  must  excuse  me  ;   legs  so  cramped 

with  gout 
As  mine,   I    fear,   could    never   stand    it 

out : 
Then,    may    I   perish    if    I   've   skill    or 

taste 
For   law ;   besides,  you    know  I    am    In 

haste."  — 
"  Faith,    now    you    make    me    doubtful 

what  to  do  ; 
Whether  to  sacrifice  my  cause  or  you." 
"  Me,  by  all  means,  Sir  !  —  me,   1  beg 

and  pray." 
*'  Not  for  the  world,"  cried  he,  and  led 

the  way. 


•    •  •     ■     *   »*r 


no 


± 


Convinced  all   further  struggle  was  but 
vain, 

I  follow  like  a  captive  in  his  train. 

"  Well  "  —  he  begins  afresh  —  "  how^ 
stand  you,  Sir, 

In  the  good  graces  of  our  Minister  ?  "  — 

*'  His  favourites  are  but   few,  and  those 
select : 

Never  was  one  more  nice  and  circum- 
spect." 

"  Enough  —  In  all  such  cases  I  'm  the 
man 

To  work  my  way  !      In  short,  to  crown 
your  plan, 

You   need   some    second,  master  of  his 
art. 

To  act,  d  'yc  see,  a  sort  of  under-part. 

Now  what  is  easier  ?  —  Do  but  recom- 
mend 

Your    humble     servant    to    this    noble 
friend  ;  — 

And,  take  my  word,  the  coast  we  soon 
should  clear. 


III 


And  you  erelong  monopolize  his  ear."  — 
"  Tush !   matters  go   not   there   as    you 

suppose ; 
No    roof   is    purer    from    intrigues    like 

those  : 
Think    not,   if   such    and    such    surpass 

myself 
In  wealth  or    wit,    I   'm    laid  upon    the 

shelf: 
Each  has  his  place  assigned."  —  "  Why, 

this  is  new 
And     passing     strange  !  "  —  "  Yet     not 

more  strange  than  true."  — 
"  Gods !   how    you    whet    my     wishes  ! 

well,  I  vow, 
I    long    to  know    him    more  than   ever 

now."  — 
—  "  Assail  him  then  ;  the  will  is  all  you 

need  ; 
With  prowess  such  as  yours,  you  must 

succeed ; 
He   's   not    impregnable ;    but   (what    is 

worst) 


[®: 


112 


^J; 


#•?! 


He  knows  it,  and  is  therefore  shy  at  first." 
"  If  that  's  his  humour,  trust  me,  I  shall 

spare 
No    kind    of   pains   to   win    admittance 

there  : 
I  'II  bribe  his  porter ;   if  denied  to-day, 
I  '11    not    desist,    but    try    some    other 

way  : 
I  '11  watch  occasions  —  linger  in  his  suite. 
Waylay,  salute,  huzzah  him  through  the 

street. 
Nothing  of  consequence  beneath  the  sun 
Without    great    labour     ever    yet     was 

done." 
Thus  he  proceeded  prattling  without 

end. 
When  —  who   should    meet  us  but  my 

worthy  friend, 
Aristius  Fuscus,  one  who  knew  the  fop 
And  all  his  humours:    up  he  comes  — 

we  stop. 
"  Whence  now,  good  Sir,  and  whither 

bound  ?  "  he  cries, 


113 


And    to    like    questions,    put     in     turn, 

replies. 
In  hopes  he  'd  take  the  hint  and  draw  me 

off, 
I  twitch  his  listless  sleeve  —  nod  —  wink 

—  and  cough. 
He,  feigning  ignorance  what  my  signals 

mean. 
With   cruel   waggery    smiles  :  —  I   burn 

with  spleen. 
"  Fuscus    (said     I),    you    mentioned 

t'  other  day 
Something  particular  you  wished  to  say 
Betwixt       ourselves."  —  "  Perhaps       I 

might :   't  is   true  : 
But  never  mind ;  some  other  time  will 

do: 
This  is  the  Jews'  grand  feast ;   and  I  sus- 
pect 
You  'd  hardly  like  to  spurn   that   holy 

sect."  — 
"  Nay,  for  such  scruples,  'troth  I  feel  not 


an 


y- 


114 


"  Well,  but  I  do,  and,  like  the  vulgar 

many, 
Am    rather    tender    in    such    points    as 

these  : 
So    by    and    bye    of   that.    Sir,    if   you 

please."  — 
Ah  me  !   that  e'er  so  dark  a  sun  should 

rise  ! 
Away  the  pitiless  barbarian  flies. 
And    leaves    me    baffled,   half  bereft  of 

life. 
All     at    the     mercy     of     the     ruthless 

knife. 
With  hue  and  cry  the  plaintiff  comes 

at  last  ; 
"  Soho    there,   sirrah !    whither    now   so 

fast  ? 
Sir  "  —  he  addressed  me  — "  You  '11  bear 

witness  here  ?  " 
"  Ay,  that  I  will,"  quoth  I,  and  turned 

my  ear. 
Anon  he  's  dragged  to  court ;  on  either 

side 


"5 


ii6 


SATIRE  X. 

" Lucili,  quam  sis  niendosus,  teste  Catone" 

Yes,  I  did  say  that  old  Lucilius'  song 
In    rough    unmeasured    numbers    halts 

along  : 
And  who  so  blindly  partial  to  his  verse, 
That  dares  to  call  Lucilius  smooth  and 

terse  ? 
Yet   that   with  ridicule's   keen    gibe   he 

knew 
To  lash  the  town,  I  gave  him  honour 

due. 
Let    then    his    humourous    talent    stand 

confest ; 
Still  granting  this,  I  must  withhold  the 

rest  : 
For,   if  mere    wit    all    excellence    com- 
bine, 
The  farces  of  Laberius  were  divine. 


117 


*T  is  not  sufficient  with  broad  mirth  to 
win 

The  laugh  convulsive  and  distended  grin  ; 

And,  tho'  to  set  an  audience  in  a  roar 

Be  something,  still  we  look  for  some- 
thing more. 

Mid  other  needfuls,  brevity  we  place, 

That  all  your  thoughts  may  flow  with 
ease  and  grace ; 

Not  wildly  rambling,  but  compact  and 
clear. 

Not  clogged  with  words  that  load  the 
labouring  ear. 

The  style  must  vary  too  from  grave  to 

Just  as  the  varying   subject   points   the 

way; 
Now  rouse  the  poet's  fire,  the  speaker's 

art  — 
Now  stoop  to  act  the  humourist's  lighter 

part. 
Like  one  who,  to  give  play,  retreating 

cowers. 


ii8 


And    purposely  puts   forth   but  half  his 

powers  : 
For  oft  a  smile  beyond  a  frown  prevails, 
And    raillery   triumphs   where   invective 

fails. 
In  this  the  earlier  comic  bards  excel, 
In  this  deserve  our  imitation  well;  — 
Those  wits  whom  nor  Hermogenes  the 

fair 
Nor  that  pert  jackanapes  e'er  made  his 

care. 
Who   only   knows    Catullus'    strains   to 

sing 
And    troll    soft   Calvus  to  the  warbling 

string. 
But  't  is  alleged,  "  that  old  Lucilius 

shines 
In    mingling    Greek   with    Latin    in  his 

lines." 
Ye   puny   pedants  !   seems  it   strange  to 

you 
What   ev'n   Pitholeon  of  Rhodes  could 

do?  — 


iSi* 


119 


MiRMRiRM 


iiiii 


"  Yet  there  's  a  sweetness  in  this  blended 

speech 
Which     neither     tongue "     (say     they) 

*'  apart  can  reach, 
Like  that   rich  zest  which   nicer   tastes 

discern 
In    mellow    Chian    mixed    with    rough 

Falern." 
Talk  you  of  verse  alone  ?      Or  (let  me 

ask) 
Were  you  engaged  in  the  more  arduous 

task 
Of   pleading    for    Petillius,    would    you 

speak 
A  motley  brogue,  half  Latin  and  half 

Greek  ? 
And,  while  our  Pedius  and  Messala  toil 
In  the  pure  idiom   of  their   native  soil. 
Spurning  your  birthright,  would  you  at 

the  Bar 
Mix  terms  outlandish  with  vernacular,  — 
And,  like  Canusium's  amphibious  sons. 
Jabber  a  brace   of   languages    at    once  ? 


1 20 


In  early  youth,  when  strong  was  my 

desire 
With   Latian    hand  to    smite   the   Attic 

lyre, 
Rome's  founder,  at  the  hour  when  dreams 

are  true, 
Rose  in  a  vision  to  my  wondering  view : 
"  Horace  !  "  —  said  he   in    accents  deep 

and  slow, 
*'  Horace  !  the  fruitless  enterprise  forego  : 
To  swell  the  host  of  Grecians  were  as 

vain 
As  adding  water  to  the  boundless  main." 
Hence,  while  Alpinus  in  bombastic  line 
Lays  Memnon    low  and   mars   the   head 

of  Rhine, 
These  sportive  lays,  I  sing,  ne'er  meant 

to  vie 
For    ivy    crowns    'neath    Tarpa's   critic 

eye, 
Nor  fraught  with  ribald  mirth  or  tragic 

rage 
Night  after  night  to  figure  on  the  stage. 


121 


y=!?e 


*M       To    paint    the    lavish    stripling's   crafty 

girl 
Plotting     with     Davus     to     outwit    the 

churl  — 
This    is    a    branch    of   art,    Fundanius, 

known 
Of  modern  wits   to  you   and  you  alone, 
Whose  pencil  to  the  prattling  scene  can 

give 
That  air  of  truth  which  bids  the  picture 

live  : 
In   stately   trimeters    proud    Pollio    sings 
The  tragic  fate  of  heroes  and  of  kings  : 
Varius    in   matchless    numbers   full    and 

grand 
Pours    his    bold    epic    with    a    master's 

hand  ; 
While  every  muse  that  haunts  the  sylvan 

plain 
Breathes  grace  and  elegance  in  Vergil's 

strain. 
In  Satire   only,   which   with    some    few 

more 


''/MMlVJ 


122 


Varro  had  tried  (but  vainly  tried)  before, 
Could  I   succeed ;    though  sure  that   no 

success 
Of  mine  could   make  its   first   inventor 

less : 
For  never  from  his  brows  would  Horace 

tear 
The  wreath  he  wears  and  well  deserves 

to  wear, 
'T  is  true  I  said  that  like  a  rapid  flood 
He  carries  in  his  course  a  train  of  mud, 
And  that  his  happier  lines  are  few  com- 
pared 
With   those  loose  stragglers  that   might 

well  be  spared. 
And  do   not  you,   ye  critics  !   now   and 

then 
Peck    at   the    foibles    ev'n    of    Homer's 

pen  ? 
Dares  not  your  loved  Lucilius  to  correct 
In   older  Accius   many  a   gross   defect  ? 
Of   Ennius   does  he  not   with   laughter 

speak, 


wsWJ'HiB 


123 


—  his  lan- 
guage weak 
Talks  he  not  of  himself,  when  self  he 

names, 
As  one  inferior  far  to  those  he  blames  ? 
What  then  forbids  us,  when  we  con  him 

o'er. 
To    use    that    freedom    which    he    used 

before  ?  — 
Ask     if     his     ruggedness    of    numbers 

seem 
Due   to   the   slov'nly    pen    or    stubborn 

theme  ?  — 
And  doubt  if  patience  may  not  give  the 

strain 
A    smoother    flow    than    that    man  can 

attain. 
Who  (deeming  that   his  lines,   however 

rough. 
While  each  contain  six  feet,  run  smooth 

enough) 
Scribbles    before    his   supper  twice    five 

score. 


I.;?..-.;   .....1  II. 


•  .••••-•.:•  .\v.'.-;.:-Vt.\.-  •:•.?:.• 


124 


And   after    supper    scribbles    twice    five 

more ;  — 
Like    Tuscan   Cassius  whose  exuberant 

song 
Swift    as    a    mountain     torrent    sweeps 

along ; 
Of  whom  fame  tells,  so  rapid   was  his 

style, 
That   his  own   volumes   formed   his    fu- 
neral pile  ? 
But    grant     Lucilius    is     polite    and 

chaste ;  — 
Grant  that  he  took  more  pains  and  shows 

more  taste 
Than  that  rude  bard  who  by  a  lucky  hit 
First  dared  a  path  unknown  to  Grecian 

wit. 
Or    than    our    older    minstrels  :  —  Yet, 

could  fate 
To  times  more  modern  have  prolonged 

his  date. 
How   would  he  toil   each   roughness  to 

refine, 


125 


To  nerve  the  weak  and  point  the  lagging 

line  ! 
Each  crude  excrescence,  each  redundant 

spray, 
As    false    luxuriance,    he    would    prune 

away. 
Nor   amid    fancy's    wildest  raptures   fail 
To    scratch    the    brow    and    gnaw    the 

bleeding  nail. 
Spare  not  erasion,  ye  that  wish  your 

strain. 
When    once     perused,    to    be     perused 

again  ; 
Nor  court  the  mob,  —  contented  if  those 

few 
Can  praise,  whose  judgment  speaks  their 

praises  true. 
Let   others    more    ambitious  joy   to  see 
Their     works    the     school-boy's     task ! 

Enough  for  pie 
If  Knights  applaud,  as  once  with  saucy 

pride. 
To   hissing    crowds    Arbuscula    replied. 


126 


What  —  shall  the  bug  Pantilius  move 

my  spleen  ? 
Or  shall  I  fret  because  unheard,  unseen, 
Demetrius  aims  his  pitiful  attack 
And   spurts   his   venorned    slime   behind 

my  back  ? 
Shall   sneers  from   Fannius,  or  his  dan- 
gling guest. 
The  pert  Hermogenes,  disturb  my  rest  ? 
No  —  let     Maecenas    smile     upon     my 

lays,— 
Let     Plotius,    Varius,    Valgius,     Vergil 

praise, — 
Let    Fuscus    and     the    good     Octavius 

deign 
With    either     Viscus    to    approve    the 

strain  ;  — 
And,    far    from    idle    dreams   of   vulgar 

fame. 
You,  Pollio  !  you,  Messala  !  let  me  name. 
Nor,  less  your  brother ;  candid  Furnius 

too. 
And  you,  my  Bibulus  !  and  Servius  !  you  : 


127 


Such,   with  some    others   whom    I   here 

omit, 
Such  are  the  friends  whose  taste  I  fain 

would  hit ; 
Mine  be  the  boast  to  win  the  smiles  of 

these, 
Nor  e'er  to  please  them  less  than  now  I 

please ! 
But    you,    Demetrius,    and   your  stupid 

gang  — 
I   bid  you,  with   Tigellius    all   go   hang 
And  scribble    tasks   for   school-girls !  — 

Boy,  pen  down 
These  lines,  and  let  them  know  I  scorn 

their  frown  ! 

Canon  Howes. 


128 


BOOK   II. 

SATIRE  I. 

*'  Sunt,  quibus  in  satira  videor  nimis  acer  et  ultras 

Horace.  There  are,  to  whom  too  poign- 
ant I  appear ; 
Beyond    the   laws   of  satire   too  severe. 
My   lines    are   weak,   unsinewed,  others 

say, 
"  A  man  might  spin  a  thousand  such  a 

day." 
What  shall  I  do,  Trebatius  ?      Trebatius. 

Write  no  more. 
H.  What !     Give  the  dear  delight  of 

scribbling  o'er  ? 
T.   Yes.      H.    Let   me   die   but   your 

advice  were  best. 
But    sir,     I     cannot    sleep ;     I    cannot 

rest. 


l<^ 


129 


■  *!.*■ 


T.  Swim  o'er  the  Tiber,  if  you  want 

to  sleep, 
Or  the  dull  sense  in  t'  other  bottle  steep  : 
If  you   must  write,  to  Caesar  tune  your 

lays, 
Indulge  your  genius,  and  your    fortune 

raise. 
H.   Oh  !   were  I  equal  to  the  glorious 

theme, 
Bristled  with  spears  his  iron  war  should 

gleam  : 
A     thousand     darts    should    pierce    the 

hardy  Gaul, 
And   from   his   horse  the  wounded   Par- 
thian fall. 
T.    Then    give    his    peaceful    virtues 

forth  to  fame ; 
His  fortitude  and  justice  be  your  theme. 
H.    Yes.     I     will     hold    the    daring 

theme  in  view. 
Perhaps  hereafter  your  advice  pursue. 
But    Caesar    never    will    your    Flaccus 

hear ; 


130 


A  languid  panegyric  hurts  his  ear. 

Too   strongly   guarded   from   the    poet's 

lays, 
He   spurns   the   flatterer,  and   his   saucy 

praise. 
T.    Better    even    this,    than    cruelly 

defame, 
And  point  buffoons  and  villains  out  by 

name. 
Sure  to  be  hated  even  by  those  you  spare. 
Who   hate   in    just    proportion   as    they 

fear. 
H.  Tell    me,  Trebatius,  are   hot   all 

mankind 
To  different   pleasures,  different  whims 

inclined  ? 
Millonius  dances  when  his  head  grows 

light. 
And  the  dim  lamp  shines  double  to  his 

sight. 
The  twin-born  brothers  in  their  sports 

divide 
Pollux  loves  boxing  ;  Castor  joys  to  ride. 


HH 


131 


1S1R* 


Indulge  me  then  in  this  my  sole  delight. 
Like   great   and   good    Lucilius   let    me 

write. 
Behold  him  frankly  to  his  book  impart, 
As  to  a  friend,  the  secrets  of  his  heart : 
To  write  was  all  his  aim  j  too  heedless 

bard, 
And  well  or  ill,  unworthy  his  regard. 
Hence  the  old  man  stands  open  to  your 

view. 
Though  with  a  careless  hand  the  piece 

he  drew. 
His  steps  I  follow  in  pursuit  of  fame. 
Whether  Lucania  or  Apulia  claim 
The   honour   of  my  birth ;   for   on   the 

lands, 
By  Samnites  once  possessed,  Venusium 

stands, 
A  forward  barrier,  as  old  tales  relate. 
To  stop  the  course  of  war,  and  guard 

the  state. 
Let   this   digression,  as   it   may,  suc- 
ceed — 


132 


No    honest    man    shall    by    my    satire 

bleed  ; 
It  guards  me  like  a  sword,  and  safe  it 

lies 
Within    the    sheath,   till    villains    round 

me  rise. 
Dread  king,  and  father  of  the  mortal 

race. 
Behold  me,  harmless  bard,  how  fond  of 

peace  ! 
And   may  all  kinds  of  mischief-making 

steel 
In  rust,  eternal  rust,  thy  vengeance  feel ! 
But    who   provokes  me,  or   attacks    my 

fame, 
"  Better  not  touch  me,  friend,"  I  loud 

exclaim ; 
His    eyes    shall   weep    the    folly   of   his 

tongue. 
By    laughing    crowds    in    rueful    ballad 

sung. 
The  informer  Cervius  threatens  with 

the  laws  ; 


133 


f^ 


Turius  your  judge,  you  surely  lose  your 

cause : 
Are  you  the  object  of  Canidia's  hate  ? 
Drugs,    poisons,    incantations,  are    your 

fate  : 
For   powerful   Nature    to   her   creatures 

shows 
With  various  arms  to  terrify  their  foes. 
The  wolf  with  teeth,  the  bull  with  horns 

can  fight ; 
Whence,    but     from    instinct,    and    an 

inward  light  ? 
His  long-lived  mother  trust  to  Scaeva's 

care  — 
T.    No  deed  of  blood  his  pious  hand 

could  dare. 
H.     Wondrous     indeed !     that     bulls 

ne'er  strive  to  bite, 
Nor  wolves,  with  desperate  horns  engage 

in  fight ; 
No  mother's  blood  the  gentle  Scaeva  spills. 
But  with  a  draught  of  honeyed  poison 

kills. 


>^   c    c 


134 


Then,  whether  age  my  peaceful  hours 

attend, 
Or   death   his    sable   pinions    round    me 

bend  ; 
Or   rich,   or   poor ;  at.  Rome ;  to   exile 

driven  ; 
Whatever  lot  by  powerful  fate  is  given. 
Yet  write  I  will.      T.   O  boy,  thy  fate  is 

sped. 
And    short   thy  days.     Some   lord    shall 

strike  thee  dead 
With   freezing   look  —     H.  What !    in 

his  honest  page, 
When    good    Lucilius   lashed   a   vicious 

age. 
From   conscious  villains  tore  the  mask 

away. 
And   stript  them  naked  to  the  glare  of 

day. 
Were  Laelius  or  his  friend  (whose  glorious 

name 
From  conquered  Carthage  deathless  rose 

to  fame). 


4  'f.:  .' 


135 


Were  they  displeased,  when  villains  and 

their  crimes 
Were    covered    o'er    with    infamy    and 

rhymes  ? 
The    factious   demagogue   he    made    his 

prize, 
And   durst    the    people,   tribe    by   tribe, 

chastise ; 
Yet  true  to  virtue,  and  to  virtue's  friends. 
To  them  alone  with  reverence  he  bends. 
When    Scipio's    virtue,    and,   of   milder 

vein, 
When  Laelius'  wisdom,  from  the   busy 

scene. 
And  crowd  of  life,  the  vulgar  and  the 

great, 
Could  with  their  favourite  satirist  retreat, 
Lightly  they  laughed  at  many  an  idle  jest, 
Until    their    frugal    feast    of   herbs   was 

drest. 
What   though  with   great    Lucilius  I 

disclaim 
All  saucy  rivalship  of  birth  or  fame. 


136 


Spite  of  herself  even  Envy  must  confess 
That  I  the  friendship  of  the  great  possess, 
And,  if  she  dare  attempt  my  honest  fame, 
Shall   break    her  teeth    against   my   solid 

name. 
This   is   my    plea ;    on    this    I    rest    my 

cause  — 
What   says  my  counsel,  learned   in  the 

laws  ? 
T.  Your  case   is  clearer ;  yet  let  me 

advise  ; 
For  sad  mishaps  from  ignorance  arise. 
Behold  the  pains  and  penalties  decreed 
To  libellers  —     H.  To  libellers  indeed  ! 
But,    if    with    truth    his    characters    he 

draws, 
Even    Caesar    shall    support    the    poet's 

cause ; 
The    formal   process  shall  be  turned  to 

sport. 
And  you  dismissed  with  honour  by  the 

court, 

Francis. 


137 


SATIRE  II. 


ON    FRUGALITY 


"MM 


"  Qua  virtus  et  quanta,  boni,  sit  vivere  parvo." 

What,     and     how    great     the     virtue, 

friends,  to  live 
On  what   the  gods  with   frugal   bounty 

give, 
(Nor   are  they   mine,  but  sage  Ofellus* 

rules 
Of  mother-wit,   and   wise   without    the 

schools,) 
Come  learn  with  me,  but  learn  before  ye 

dine. 
Ere  with  luxurious  pomp  the  table  shine  ; 
Ere  yet  its  madding  splendours  are  dis- 
played. 
That  dull  the  sense,  and  the  weak  mind 

mislead. 


138 


Yet  why  before  we  dine  ?      I  '11  tell  ye, 
friends, 

A  judge,  when   bribed,  but  ill  to  truth 
attends. 
Pursue    the    chase ;    the    unmanaged 
courser  rein  : 

Or,  if  the  Roman  war  ill  suit  thy  vein. 

To  Grecian  revels  formed,  at  tennis  play. 

Or  at  the  manly  discus  waste  the  day  : 

With  vigour  hurf  it  through  the  yielding 
air 

(The    sport    shall  make  the  labour  less 
severe) ; 

Then,  when  the  loathings  that  from  sur- 
feits rise 

Are  quelled  by  toil,  a  homely  meal  de- 
spise ; 

Then    the    Falernian    grape    with    pride 
disclaim. 

Unless  with  honey  we  correct  its  flame. 
Your  butler  strolls  abroad  j  the  win- 
tered sea 

Defends  its  fish ;  but  you  can  well  allay 


i 


139 


The   stomach's    angry    roar   with   bread 
and  salt. 

Whence    can    this   rise,  you    ask,  from 
whence  the  fault  ? 

In  you  consists  the  pleasure  of  the  treat. 

Not    in    the    price,    or    flavour    of    the 
meat. 
Let  exercise  give  relish  to  the  dish. 

Since  not  the  various  luxuries  of  fish, 

Nor  foreign  wild    fowl  can  delight  the 
pale, 

Surfeit-swoln    guest ;    yet    I   shall    ne'er 
prevail 

To    make    our   men   of  taste    a    pullet 
choose. 

And  the  gay  peacock  with  its  train  re- 
fuse ; 

For  the  rare  bird  at  mighty  price  is  sold ; 

And,  lo  !  what  wonders  from  its  tail  un- 
fold ! 

But  can  these  whims  a  higher  gusto  raise, 

Unless  you   eat  the   plumage  that   you 


140 


Or  do  its  glories,  when  't  is  boiled,  re- 
main ? 

No  ;  't  is  the  unequalled  beauty  of  its  train 

Deludes  your  eye,  and  charms  you  to  the 
feast. 

For  hens  and  peacocks  are  alike  in  taste. 
But  say,  by  what  discernment  are  you 
taught 

To  know  that  this  voracious  pike  was 
caught 

Where   the    full    river's    lenient    waters 
glide. 

Or  where   the  bridges   break    the    rapid 
tide ; 

In  the  mild  ocean,  or  where  Tiber  pays 

With  broader  course  his  tribute  to  the 
seas  ? 
Madly  you  praise  the  mullet's  three- 
pound   \yeight, 

And  yet  you  stew  it  piecemeal  ere  you 
eat ; 

Your  eye  deceives  you ;  wherefore  else 
dislike 


•  .  ••.' 


.  •  •  ^  ..*;. 


•  •■•••  * 


•>c 


141 


\, 


»**-'^). 


The   natural    greatness  of  a  full-grown 

pike, 
Yet  in  a  mullet  so  much  joy  express  ? 
''  Pikes  are  by  nature  large,  and  mullets 

less." 
"  Give  me,"  the  harpy-throated  glutton 

cries, 
*■'■  In  a  large  dish,  a  mullet's  largest  size  :  " 
Descend,  ye  southern  winds,    propitious 

haste. 
And  dress  his  dainties  for  this   man   of 

taste. 
And    yet  it  needs  not ;    for  when  such 

excess 
Shall  his  o'er-jaded  appetite  oppress. 
The    new-caught    turbot    's    tainted    ere 

he  's  eat, 
And  bitter  herbs  are  a  delicious  treat. 

But  still  some  ancient  poverty  remains  ; 
The  egg,  —  the  olive  yet  a  place  main- 
tains 
At  great  men's  tables ;  nor,  till  late,  the 

fame 


142 


Of  a  whole   sturgeon  damned  a  praetor's 

name. 
Did  ocean  then  a  smaller  turbot  yield  ? 
The  towering  stork  did  once  in  safety 

build 
Her  airy  nest,  nor  was  the  turbot  caught 
Till    your    great    praetor  better  precepts 

taught. 
Tell  them,  that  roasted  cormorants  are 

a  feast. 
Our    docile    youth    obey    the    man    of 

taste  ; 
But  sage  Ofellus  marks  a  decent  mean 
A  sordid,  and  a  frugal  meal  between  ; 
For  a  profuse  expense  in  vain  you  shun 
If  into  sordid  avarice  you  run. 

Avidienus,  who  by  public  fame 
Was  called  "  the  dog,"  and   merited  the 

name. 
Wild  cornels,  olives  five  years  old,  de- 
voured ; 
Nor,  till  his  wine  was  turned,  his  pure 

libations  poured. 


143 


fes 


When  robed  in  white  he   marked  with 

festal   mirth 
His  day  of  marriage  or  his  hour  of  birth. 
From  his  one  bottle,  of  some  two  pounds 

weight, 
With  oil,  of  execrable  stench,  replete, 
With  his  own  hand  he  dropped  his  cab- 
bage o'er. 
But  spared  his  oldest  vinegar  no  more. 
How  shall  the  wise  decide,  thus  urged 

between 
The    proverb's    ravening   wolf,  and   dog 

obscene  ? 
Let  him  avoid  the  equal  wretchedness 
Of  sordid  filth,  or  prodigal  excess  ; 
Nor   his   poor   slaves  like   old  Albucius 

rate, 
When  he  gives  orders  for  some  curious 

treat ; 
Nor  yet  like  Naevius,  carelessly  unclean, 
His  guests  with  greasy  water  entertain. 
This   too  is  vile.     Now  mark,  what 

blessings  flow 


144 


From   temperate   meals ;   and    first   they 
can   bestow 

That    prime    of    blessings,    health :    for 
you  '11  confess 

That   various    meats   the  stomach   must 
oppress, 

If  you   reflect  how  light,  how  well  you 
were 

When  plain  and  simple  was  your  cheer- 
ful fare  ; 

But  roast,  and  boiled,  when  you  promis- 
cuous eat. 

When   fowl  and  shell-fish  in  confusion 
meet, 

Sweets,  turned  to  choler,  with  cold  phlegm 
engage. 

And   civil  war   in    the    racked    stomach 
wage. 
Behold  how  pale  the  sated  guests  arise 

From  suppers,  puzzled  with  varieties  ! 

The  body  too,  with  yesterday's  excess 

Burthened  and  tired,  shall  the  pure  soul 
depress  ; 


145 


S^     wri 


Weigh    down    this   portion    of   celestial 

birth, 
This  breath  of  god,  and  fix  it  to  the  earth. 
Who    down    to    sleep    from    a   short 

supper  lies. 
Can  to  the  next  day's  business  vigorous 

rise, 
Or  jovial  wander  (when  the  circling  year 
Brings  back  some  festal   day)  to  better 

cheer; 
Or  when  his  wasted  strength  he  would 

restore. 
When  years   approach,  and   age's  feeble 

hour 
A    softer    treatment    claim.     But    if   in 

prime 
Of  youth   and   health   you   take   before 

your  time 
The  luxuries  of  life,  where  is  their  aid 
When  age  or  sickness  shall  your  strength 

invade  ? 
Our  fathers  loved  (and  yet  they  had  a 

nose) 


146 


A  tainted  boar ;  but  I  believe  they  chose 

The  mouldy  fragments  with  a  friend  to 
eat, 

Rather  than  eat  it  whole  themselves,  and 
sweet. 

Oh  !  that  the  earth,  when  vigorous  and 
young. 

Had  borne  me  this  heroic  race  among ! 
Do  you  the  voice  of  fame  with  pleas- 
ure hear  ? 

(Sweeter  than  verse  it  charms  the  human 
ear;) 

Behold,  what  infamy  and  ruin  rise 

From  a  large  dish,  where  the  large  turbot 
lies ; 

Your  friends,  your  neighbours,  all  your 
folly  hate. 

You   hate  yourself,   in   vain,  and   curse 
your  fate. 

When,  though  you  wish  for  death,  you 
want  the  pelf 

To  purchase  even  a  rope  to  hang  your- 
self. 


147 


©^ 


"  These    precepts    well    may    wretched 

Trausius   rate ; 
But  why  to  me  ?      So  large  is  my  estate, 
And  such  an  ample  revenue  it  brings 
To  satiate  even  the  avarice  of  kings." 
Then    why    not    better  use   this    proud 

excess 
Of   worthless    wealth  ?     Why    lives    in 

deep  distress 
A    man   unworthy    to   be    poor,   or   why 
The  temples  of  the  gods   in  ruins    lie  ? 
Why  not  of  such  a  massy  treasure  spare 
To  thy  dear  country,  wretch,  a  moderate 

share  ? 
Shalt  thou  alone  no   change  of  fortune 

know  ? 
Thou  future  laughter  to  thy  deadliest  foe  ! 
But   who,   with   conscious  spirit  self- 
secure, 
A  change  of  fortune  better  shall  endure  ? 
He,  who  with  such  variety  of  food 
Pampers   his   passions,  and   inflames  his 

blood  ; 


148 


Or  he,  contented  with  his  little  store, 
And  wisely  cautious  of  the  future  hour. 
Who  in  the  time  of  peace  with  prudent 

care 
Shall  for  the  extremities'  of  war  prepare  ? 
But,    deeper    to    impress    this    useful 

truth, 
I  knew  the   sage  Ofellus  in   my  youth. 
Living,  when  wealthy,  at  no  larger  rate 
Than    in    his    present    more    contracted 

state, 
I  saw  the  hardy  hireling  till  the  ground 
('T  was  once  his  own  estate),  and  while 

around 
His  cattle  grazed,  and  children  listening 

stood, 
The    cheerful    swain    his    pleasing    tale 

pursued. 
"  On  working  days  I  had  no  idle  treat. 
But  a  smoked  leg  of  pork  and  greens   I 

eat ; 
Yet   when    arrived    some    long-expected 

guest, 


149 


Or  rainy  weather  gave  an  hour  of  rest. 

If  a  kind   neighbour   then    a  visit  paid, 

An  entertainment  more  profuse  I  made  ; 

Though  with  a  kid  or  pullet  well  con- 
tent, 

Ne'er  for  luxurious  fish  to  Rome  I  sent ; 

With  nuts  and  figs  I  crowned  the  cheer- 
ful board, 

The  largest  that  the  season  could  afford. 

The  social  glass  went  round  with  cheer- 
fulness, 

And  our  sole  rule  was  to  avoid  excess. 

Our   due   libations   were  to   Ceres   paid. 

To  bless   our   corn,   and    fill  the  rising 
blade, 

While    the    gay     wine     dispelled    each 
anxious  care, 

And  smoothed  the  wrinkled  forehead  too 
severe. 
"  Let  Fortune  rage,  and  new  disorders 
make. 

From  such  a  life  how  little  can  she  take  ? 

Or  have  we  lived  at  a  more  frugal  rate 


150 


± 


Since   this    new   stranger  seized   on  our 

estate  ? 
Nature  will  no  perpetual  heir  assign, 
Or  make  the  farm  his  property  or  mine. 
He    turned    us  out :    but    follies  all    his 

own, 
Or    lawsuits,    and    their    knaveries    un- 
known ; 
Or,  all  his  follies  and  his  lawsuits  past. 
Some  long-lived  heir  shall  turn  him  out 

at  last. 
The  farm,  once  mine,  now  bears  Um- 

brenus'  name  ; 
The  use  alone,  not  property  we  claim  ; 
Then    be    not    with    your    present    lot 

deprest. 
And    meet    the    future    with   undaunted 

breast." 

Francis. 


151 


SATIRE  III. 


IN  THE  FORM   OF    A    DIALOGUE    BETWEEN 
HORACE    AND    DAMASIPPUS 

"  Sic  raro  scribis,  ut  Mo  non  quater  anno" 

''  So  seldom  now  you  court  the  muse,  I 

hear, 
You  call  for  parchment  scarcely  thrice  a 

year; 
On    dull  revisal  while    you    waste  your 

powers, 
And,  sleep  or  wine  engrossing  all  your 

hours. 
Vexed  with  yourself  you  peevishly  com- 
plain 
That    you    can   hammer   out    no    living 

strain. 
How    now !    from    Saturn's    revels    you 

withdrew, 


'imm 


152 


'  ■:jig^lTMm»"'i 


As  one  resolved  to  carol  something  new. 
Here  then,  all  sober,  keep  your  promise ; 

come, 
Begin,    compose  —  Alas  !    you    still   are 

dumb. 
In    vain   you    curse  the    pen,   and   in   a 

rage 
Pour   your    resentment    on   the  luckless 

page. 
Poor     innocents !      regardless    of    their 

worth 
Sure  Gods  and  Poets  frowned  upon  their 

birth, 
Methought    your    looks    bespoke    some 

wondrous  feat 
If  e'er   you    reached   your    villa's    snug 

retreat. 
Why  else,  as  if  to  indulge  a  studious  fit. 
Heap    Plato's    wisdom    on    Menander's 

wit? 
Why   take   Archilochus,  a  goodly  load. 
With  Eupolis,  companions  on  the  road  ? 
Think  you  the  wrath  of  envy  to  appease, 


153 


By  quitting  virtue  for  inglorious  ease  ? 
Poor    wretch !    contempt    awaits     you. 

Scorn  the  smiles 
Of  Siren  Sloth  and  her  insidious  wiles,  — 
Or  tamely  forfeit  all  your  claim  to  praise. 
The  meed  of  toil  and    fruits    of  better 

days." 
— Your    counsel,   Damasippus,   I    must 

own, 
Is  just :   And  for  the  wisdom  you  have 

shown 
Heaven  send  you  a  good  barber  !  —  But 

pray  tell. 
How  wist  you  me  and  my  concerns  so 

well  ? 
—  "  Learn,  since  the  Forum  saw  by  sad 

neglect 
My  fortunes  all  on   Usury's  quicksands 

wrecked, 
From   that   time    forward    1    devote    my 

cares 
(Reft  of  my  own)  to  other  men's  affairs. 
For  late  my  sole  ambition  was  to  amass 


<at:ML, 


154 


^%m 


Not  current  gold,  but  rare  Corinthian 
brass  ; 

Proud  if  I  chanced  with  some  old  vase 
to  meet 

In  which  sly  Sisyphus  had  bathed  his 
feet. 

Oft  I  pronounced  in  all  the  pride  of 
taste 

This  rudely  sculptured,  and  that  coarsely 
cast ; 

Would  name  the  price  with  connoisseur- 
like air 

To  here  a  busto^  a  relievo  there  ; 

Or  cheapened  mansions,  parks,  and  pleas- 
ure-grounds. 

And  many  bargains  bought  for  many 
pounds. 

The  auction-hunters,  when  they  met  me, 
smiled 

And  pointing  cried  —  See  Mercury's  fa- 
voured child  !  " 

—  I  know  the  mania  you  so  long  en- 
dured, 


m 


155 


'Cm 


And  wonder  by  what  process  you  were 
cured. 

—  "The  old  distemper  to  a  new  gave 

place  ; 
And  this,  you  know,  is  no  uncommon 

case  : 
One  patient  finds  his  pleurisy  depart 
Or  head-ache,  but  to  settle  at  the  heart ; 
That,  cured  of  lethargy,  turns  pugilist 
And  at   the   frightened   doctor  darts  his 

fist." 

—  "  Go  to,  pray  Heaven  your  frenzy  be 

not  such  !  " 

"  Softly,  good  sir  !  presume  not  quite  so 
much  : 

For  if  there  's  truth  in  wise  Stertinius* 
rules. 

You  and  the  world  are  madmen  all  and 
fools. 

From  his  pure  lips  with  wondrous  wis- 
dom fraught 

My  eager  ear  some  golden  precepts 
caught. 


What  time  my  guardian  genius  he  ap- 
peared, 

Bade  me  to  nurse  this  sapient  length  of 
beard, 

From    the    Fabrician    bridge    my    steps 
withdrew. 

And   opened   scenes  of  comfort  to    my 
view. 

Wild    in    despair,   with    muffled    head    I 
stood. 

Prepared  to  plunge  into  the  roaring  flood. 

When  up  he  came  in  time  of  greatest 
need, 

And   "  Hold  !  "    he   cried,  "  forbear  the 
dreadful  deed  : 

Emancipate    thy    mind    from    this    false 
shame. 

Nor  shrink  midst  madmen  from  a  mad- 
man's name  ; 

For  be    it   first    inquired,    to    make    all 
plain. 

What  madness  is,  and  who  are  the  in- 
sane. 


^ 
^ 


157 


i>5!>: 


If  this  be  found  in  you  and  none  be- 
side, 

I  'm  dumb  —  go,  perish  nobly  in  the 
tide  !  " 

The  man  whom  ignorance  warps  and 
passions  blind. 

Him  have  Chrysippus  and  the  Porch 
defined 

A  madman.  Mark,  the  rule  embraces 
you. 

Kings,  Commons,  all  —  except  the  fa- 
voured few. 

Hear  now  why  those  who  proudly  call 
you  mad, 

In  reason's  view  are  every  whit  as  bad. 

As,  when  bewildered  in  a  wood  by  night. 

This  traveller  takes  the  left  and  that  the 
right. 

Each  strays,  though  in  a  different  path 
he  strays. 

Mocked  by  the  self-same  error  various 
ways,  — 

So  it  is  here ;  and  he  that  laughs  at  you 


158 


May   wear   the   cap  j    for   he    is    crack- 
brained  too. 
See  Mania  in  a  thousand  forms  appear  ! 
One   fears  where  there  exists  no  cause 

for  fear. 
And  in  an  open  field  complains  he  sees 
His  path  opposed  by  rivers,  rocks,  and 

trees. 
Another  maniac  of  a  different  turn 
Will  rush  where  torrents  roll  and  ^tnas 

burn. 
Warned  by  a  mother's,  sister's,  consort's 

care  — 
"  Here    yawns    a    gulf,    here    frowns    a 

rock  ;  beware  !  " 
He   's    deaf   as   drunken   Fufius    in   the 

play 
Who    snored    the    part    of    slumbering 

Hecuba, 
While,  backed  by  thousands,  Polydorus 

bawls  — 
"  Awake,  dear  mother  !  't  is  thy  son  that 

calls." 


r^J 


159 


in 


Alike    to    wisdom's    eye    through    all 
mankind 

Prevails  some  strange  obliquity  of  mind. 

With  his  last  sous  poor  Damasippus  buys 

Statues  and  busts  —  and  here  his  mad- 
ness lies. 

But  is  his  creditor  of  mind  quite  sound 

Whose  loans  return  him  sixpence  in  the 
pound  ? 

Suppose  one  says,  "  Take  this  nor  e'er 
repay  ;  " 

Are  you  forsooth  a  madman  who  obey  ? 

Call  him  the  madman  rather,  who  pre- 
tends 

To  spurn  the  prize  propitious  Mercury 
sends. 
Ten  drawn  on  Nerius ;  sign  the  loan 
with  speed  : 

'T  is  not  enough  —  down  with  the  bond 
and  deed  : 

A  thousand  parchments  let  Cicuta  draw, 

Skilled  to  tie  fast  each  knotty  noose  of 
law. 


1 60 


Though  chains  of  adamant  the  wretch 

enthrall, 
This  cursed  Proteus-debtor  bursts  them 

all; 
Laughs  in   his   sleeve   when  dragged  to 

court,  and  see  — 
He  turns  at  will  to  bear,  bird,  rock,  or 

tree  ! 
No  more  —  if  to  o'erstep  self-interest's 

bound 
Be  mad,  while  caution  proves  the  reason 

sound, 
Strong  in  his  breast  the  flames  of  frenzy 

burn 
Who  lends  his  money  never  to  return. 
Haste  and  adjust  the  mantle's  decent 

fold. 
All  ye  that  madden  with  the  thirst  of 

gold,— 
Whose   bosoms   kindle  with    ambition's 

fires, — 
Whose    blood   ferments    with    lechery's 

wild  desires, — 


i6i 


^nt 


•^ 


Whom    superstition's    slavish   fear    mo- 
lests,— 
In    short,    whatever    frenzy  racks   your 

breasts, 
Approach    in    ranks,   be   patient    if  you 

can. 
And  hear   me   prove  you  maniacs  to  a 

man  ! 
The  miser  first :  none  wants  a  keeper 

more 
Or  asks  a  stronger  dose  of  hellebore. 
By  wisdom's  rules  I  know  not  if  to  such 
A    whole   Anticyra's   produce   were   too 

much. 
Staberius    willed,    to    make    his     riches 

known, 
Their  sum  should  be  engraved  upon  his 

stone  : 
His  heirs,  in  case  of  failure,  to  engage 
Two  hundred  champions  for  the  public 

stage. 
Besides    a    one-year's    Libyan    crop    of 


g 


ram. 


162 


With  such  a  feast  as  Arrius  should  or- 
dain. 
"Whether  I  formed  my  judgment  well 

or  ill, 
Such  was  my  pleasure ;  who  dare  thwart 

my  will  ?  " 
Such  haply  was  the  plea  which  weighed 

with  him. 
But  would  you  learn  the  motive  for  this 

whim  ? 
'T  was  this  :  he  thought  no  sin  like  being 

poor; 
Through  all  his  life  he  dreaded  nothing 

more  ; 
And  would   no  doubt  have  blushed  for 

his  excess, 
If  he  had  died  worth  but  one  farthing  less. 
All  things  in  his  esteem  —  fame,  virtue, 

health. 
Human  and  heavenly  —  bow  to  blessed 

wealth  : 
He    that    is    rich,    in    every    trade    has 

skill,  — 


■w^ffJ'Wli 


163 


Is     brave,   just,    wise,    ay    monarch, — 

what  you  will. 
Such  was  his  creed  ;  with  him  the  road 

to  praise 
Was    wealth,   and    therefore    wealth    he 

strove  to  raise. 
How  different,  Aristippus  !   your  com- 
mands 
When   with   your   slaves    you    traversed 

Afric's  sands  ! 
Finding  their  freight  of  gold  begat  delay. 
You  bade  them  fling  the  cumbrous   ore 

away. 
Which  was  the  greater  madman  ?   some 

will  ask  : 
The    problem    is    a    nice,   but    needless 

task  : 
Extremes   but    puzzle   the    dispute ;    for 

who 
Can  hope  to  solve  old  doubts  by  starting 

new  ? 
If  one  devoid   of  ear  or  taste  should 

buy 


'. '■ '!JiJU'i'''l'«'-7  ""1 

.'■K' '•  'i  ■•  •vC.:i\-.-.-;-j't- 


164 


A  hundred  harps  and  pile  them  up  on 
high ; 

Or  treasure  many  a  last  and  paring- 
knife, 

Who  never  botched  a  shoe  in  all  his 
life  ; 

Or  sails,  who  took  in  sailing  no  de- 
light ;  — 

The  world  would  stamp  him  mad,  and 
well  they  might. 

Now  point  me  out  the  difference,  if  you 
can. 

Between  these  downright  maniacs  and 
the  man 

Who  heaps,  but  dare  not  use,  his  darling 
ore. 

And  deems  it  sacrilege  to  touch  the 
store. 

If  near  a  heap  of  corn  one  takes  his 
stand, 

Couched  like  a  watchful  dragon,  club  in 
hand. 

Yet  feeding  upon  bitter  herbs  is  fain 


165 


Sooner  to   starve    than    touch    a    single 

grain ;  — 
If  old  Falern  and  Chian  fifty  tier  — 
Nay  fifty  thousand  —  in  his  vaults  ap- 
pear, 
Yet  loath  to  violate  a  single  jar 
He  sips  the  dregs  of  ropy  vinegar ;  — 
If  in   his  eightieth  year,  when  nature's 

law 
Indulgence  claims,  he  seeks  his  bed  of 

straw, 
Though  rich  in  sumptuous  quilts,  which 

left  a  prey 
To  moths  and  worms  within  his  chests 

decay  :  — 
Perhaps  he  's  thought  a  madman  but  by 

few : 
Why  ?  but  because  the  rest  are  madmen 

too? 
Go,  graceless  dotard  !   watch  thy  hoarded 

wine. 
That  some  sly  freedman  or  wild  son  of 

thine. 


1 66 


nm 


.M'!^ 


When  thy  old  bones  are  mouldering  in 
the  grave, 

May  drink  it  out  and  laugh  at  him  that 
gave  ! 
'T  is  penury,  I  fear,  methinks  you  say  : 

Go,  count  how  trifling  were  the  charge 
per  day 

Upon   your  herbs   some    sweeter  oil   to 
shed 

And  give  some  unguents  to  that  squalid 
head. 

If  such  a  pittance  can  your  wants  sup- 
ply^ 

Why,   madman !    break    your   oath   and 

cheat  and  lie  ? 
Should  you  begin  the  passing  crowd  to 

stone 
And    kill   the  slaves  by  purchase    made 

your  own, 
The  very  rabble  whom  you  chanced  to 

meet 
Would  hoot  you  for  a  madman  through 

the  street. 


WA 


*i 


a 


167 


And  are  you  sane  forsooth,  who  hang 
your  wife 

And  drug  the  bowl  against  a  mother's 
life  ? 

What  though  the  deed  was  not  at  Argos 
done  ? 

What  though  you  ne'er,  like  Clytemnes- 
tra's  son. 

Applied  the  poniard  ?  —  Idle  pleas  and 
vain  ! 

Think  vou  't  was  matricide  first  turned 
his  brain  ? 

Or  that  his  soul  was  not  with  fiends 
possest 

Long  ere  his  sword  had  pierced  a  moth- 
er's breast  ? 

We  hear  not  that  Orestes  from  the  time 

They  deemed  him  mad,  dared  any  hei- 
nous crime. 

Against  Electra  did  he  e'er  oflfend. 

Or  lift  the  sword  against  his  faithful 
friend  ? 

No  —  her  he  only  as  a  fiend  addrest, 


i68 


And  him  what  wild  delirium  might  sug- 
gest. 
Opimius,  poor  amid  his  hoarded  coin, 
Who  quaffed  on  common  days  the  lees 

of  wine, 
And    thought    it    much    on    festivals    to 

share 
Small  Veian  tiff  from  cheap  Campanian 

ware, 
So  deep  a  lethargy  once  chanced  to  seize 
That  his  glad  heir  assailed  the  chests  and 

keys. 
The  doctor,  an  expert  and  skilful  man, 
To  rouse  his  patient  tried  the  following 

plan  : 
Large  bags  of  gold  were  emptied  on  the 

floor, 
And  friends  employed  to  come  and  count 

it  o'er. 
All  things   prepared,  he  raised  the  sick 

man's  head. 
And  pointing  where  the  glittering  heaps 

were  spread, 


169 


^^f^i^^n 


"  Arise,"   he    cried  ;   "  your   greedy  heir 

will  take 
All  your  effects,  unless  you  watch  and 

wake. 
Look,  they  commence  their  plunder  even 

now!"  — 
"What,    ere    I    die!"  —  "Then    wake 

and  live."  —  "But  how?" 
"  Your    fainting    stomach    needs    some 

strengthening  food ; 
Take  this  Elixir  —  come,  't  will  do  you 

good."  — 
"  First  tell  me  what  it  cost  ?  " —  "  The 

price  is  small." 
"  How  much,  I  ask  ?  "  —  "  One  shilling  ; 

that  is  all." 
"  A  shilling  !  's  death,  if  ruin  must  ensue. 
What    matter    if   by    theft,   disease,   or 


you 


? 


Who  then  is  sane  ?     The  man  from 
♦r^-a  folly  free. 

And  what  's  the  miser  ?  none  so  mad  as 
he. 


^AjT 


170 


If  not  a  miser,  am  I  straightway  sane  ? 
Far  from  it.  —  Why,  great  stoic  ?  —  I  '11 

explain. 
Craterus  declares  his  patient  free   from 

gout : 
Is  he  then  hearty  ?  can  he  walk  about  ? 
No,  he  will  answer ;  for  there  yet  remains 
A  sharp  distemper  in  the  side  and  reins. 
You  neither  cheat  nor  hoard ;  so  far  you 

shine  : 
Slay  to  your  favouring  household-gods  a 

swine  ! 
But  do  you  thirst  for  place  and  power  ? 

—  Away, 
Steer  for  Anticyra  without  delay  : 
For  whether  to  the  mob  you  fling  your 

pelf 
Or  hoard  it,  where  's  the  difference  to 

yourself? 
Oppidius  of  Canusium,  his  estate 
(A  large  one,  reckoning  by  the  antique 

rate) 
Between  two  sons  resolving  to  divide, 


iffm 


1^1^  ^I^ 


^__,iCt,j.     _jj 


*  •  " 


V 


%M 


mi&l 


171 


Summoned  and  thus  addrest  them  ere  he 

died. 
"  Long    since,    my    children,    when    ye 

both  were  boys, 
I     marked    the    different    treatment    of 

your  toys. 
Yours,  Aulus !   scattered    and    neglected 


lay. 


Were  often  given  and  sometimes  thrown 

away  : 
While  you,  Tiberius  !   of  severer  mood 
Counted  and  hid  them  up  where'er  you 

could. 
Observing   this    I    feared  —  nay,    still    I 

fear  — 
Lest    various    frenzies    should    in    both 

appear : 
Lest  you  the  vile  example  should  pursue 
Of  Nomentanus  —  of  Cicuta  you. 
Conjured,  then,  by  our  household-gods, 

beware. 
As  ye  regard  a  dying  father's  prayer. 
You  of  enlarging,  you  of  making  less  — 


172 


^^^ 


By  sordid  avarice  or  by  wild  excess  — 
What  seems  sufficient  in   your  father's 

eyes, 
What  sense  approves  and  nature  justifies. 
But,  lest  ambition  lure  you  to  the  great. 
Hear  on    what   terms    I    leave   you   my 

estate  : 
Whichever  of  the  twain  is  ^dile  first 
Or    Praetor,    be    he    outlawed    and    ac- 
curst !  " 
Vainglorious    fool,   thus    to    consume 

thy  means 
In  scattering  largesses  of  peas  and  beans. 
All  for  a  brazen  bust  and  gaudy  train, 
Stript    of   thy  house,    thy  chattels,  and 

domain,  — 
Thinking   forsooth   Agrippa's    praise   to 

win, 
A  would-be  lion,  though  an  ass  within  ! 
Whence,  Agamemnon,  does  this  order 

spring 
That     Ajax    lie     untombed  ? — *' Obey 

your  king  !  "  — 


»-f 


173 


^ 


Enough ;    I   'm   but  your  subject ;    and 

submit. 
"Nay,  more  —  we  think  our  edict  just 

and  fit : 
Yet,  if  there  be  to  whom  it  seems  severe. 
Let    him    allege    his    reasons ;    we    will 

hear." 
"  Great    Chief,   may   heaven    vouchsafe 

thee  to  destroy 
And  quit  in  safety  the  proud   walls  of 

Troy  ! 
Fain  would   I  put  some  questions,  if  I 


may. 


With    leave    to   answer."  —  "  Say   what 

thou  would'st  say."  — 
"  Why  does  brave  Ajax,  who  for  Greece 

has  won 
Such  laurels,  second  but  to  Peleus'  son. 
Rot  uninterred  ?   what  triumph  will  it  be 
To    Priam   and    his   people,  when   they 

see 
That   hero    robbed  of  funeral   rites,  by 

whom 


174 


So   many   youth    of   theirs   have    lost   a 

tomb  !  " 
*'  Upon  our  flocks  with  frantic  rage  he 

flew, 
And  dealing  slaughter  thought  't  was  us 

he  slew. 
Here    fell    myself — here    lay    Ulysses 

gored  — 
There    Menelaus    reeked     beneath     his 

sword." 
"  When  you  at  Aulis  to  the  altar  led 
Iphigenia  in  a  heifer's  stead, 
Sprinkled  upon  her  brow  the  salted  meal. 
And   to  her  throat  applied  the   ruthless 

steel. 
What    shall    we    say  ?     Was    he    with 

frenzy  wild. 
And    are    you    sane   who   sacrifice    your 

child  ? 
But  after  all  what  harm  did  Ajax  do  ? 
He    killed    the    sheep    and    oxen,    it    is 

true  : 
He  cursed  the  two  Atridae ;  but  his  wife 


175 


And  son  —  he  would  not  hurt  them  for 

his  life. 
He  spared  his  Teucer ;  and  his  deadliest 

foe 
Felt  but  in  effigy  the  vengeful  blow." 
"  I,  when  Diana's  wrath,  as  Calchas 

swore. 
Detained    our   barks   upon    the   Grecian 

shore, 
To  gain  a  passage  through  the  stormy 

flood, 
Strove  wisely  to  propitiate  Heaven  with 

blood." 

—  Ay,  whose,  rash  madman!  but  thine 

own  ?   reply. 

—  *'  My  own,  I  grant ;  —  as  madman,  I 

deny."  — 
He  to  whose  view  bewildering  passion 

flings 
False   colours  and  distorts  the  form  of 

things, 
(Whether  from   rage  or  folly,  't  is  the 

same) 


176 


Is    frantic,    and    deserves    a    madman's 

name. 
Was  Ajax  mad,  who  what  he  did  scarce 

knew. 
And  in  his  mood  the  harmless  cattle  slew  ? 
And,   when   for  empty   title's  sake   you 

sin, 
Basely  deliberate,  is  all  sound  within  ? 
Does  no  insaneness  in  that  breast  reside 
Which  pants  for  sovereignty  and  swells 

with  pride  ? 
What  if  some  wight  should  take  it  in  his 

head 
To  pet  a  lambkin  in  a  daughter's  stead,  — 
Trinkets,  fine  clothes,  and  tiring-maids 

provide. 
And  destine  her  some  noble    lordling's 

bride  ;  — 
Straight   his   incompetence   the   law   de- 
clares 
And  names  trustees  to  manage  his  affairs. 
Reverse  the  picture  now,  and   say  that 

one 


177 


Slays  for  a  lamb  his  child,  as  you  have 

done  : 
What  shall  we  call   it  ?  —  Madness,  to 

be  sure, 
And  such  a  madness  as  admits  no  cure. 
For  trust  this  maxim  :  In  whatever  mind 
Reigns  folly,  there,  too,  madness  sits  en- 
shrined. 
Frenzy  and  vice  are  in  effect  the  same ; 
And    whoso    fondly    hunts    the    bubble 

Fame, 
Him    have   ten   thousand   furies   captive 

led 
And  grim   Bellona  thundered  round  his 

head. 
Now  turn  your  eye  to  the  voluptuous 

race; 
Give  Luxury  and  Nomentanus  chase ; 
And  mark  if  scanned  by  reason's  sober 

rule 
The  spendthrift  be  not  mad ;  the  rake  a 

fool. 
Yon  stripling,  having  dropt  the  filial  tear. 


178 


Steps  into  some  ten  thousand  pounds  a 

year. 
What  does  he  first  ?  —  He  puts  his  edict 

out, 
That  fishmongers  and  fruiterers,  coute  que 

coute^  — 
That    all    who    vend    perfumes,    choice 

birds,  choice  meat. 
With    all    the    riff-rafF  of   the    Tuscan 

street, 
Buffoons,  pimps,  poulterers,  to  his  hall 

repair. 
And  what  ensued,  when  they  assembled 

there  ? 
Silence  proclaimed,  amid  the  full  divan. 
The  pimp  arose,  and  rising  thus  began  : 
"  Whate'er  belongs  to  me  —  whate'er  to 

these  — 
Is  yours  to-day,  to-morrow,  when  you 

please." 
Then  did  the  youth  thus  graciously  reply  : 
"  Friends,  you  provide  me  all  that  gold 

can  buy  ; 


179 


4t  * 


You  booted  hunt  the  midnight  forest  o'er, 
That  I  may  sup  on  a  delicious  boar : 
You  swoop  the  fishes  from   the  wintry 

sea, 
And   of  your    perils  bring  the  fruits  to 

me  : 
I  neither  need  nor  merit  this  vast  store 
Here,  take  this  hundred  —  you  this  hun- 
dred more. 
A  triple  share  to  you,  dear  sir,  must  fall 
Whose  spouse  at  midnight  listens  to  my 
call." 
T^sopus'  son  drew  from  Metella's  ear 
That  pearl  for  which  he  erst  had  paid  so 

dear. 
And  in  a  vinegar  solution  quaffed 
A  cool  ten-thousand  pieces  at  one  draught. 
Could  he  have  shown  a  mind  more  past 

all  cure, 
Had  he  consigned  it  to  the  public  sewer  ? 
The  sons  of  Arrius  too,  a  jovial  pair. 
Resolved  on  dainties  no  expense  to  spare, 
Twins  in  debauch,  frivolity,  and  vice, 


1 80 


Luncheoned  on  nightingales  of  monstrous 

price. 

How  shall  we  mark  all  such  ?  with  black- 
ening coal, 
As  fools  and  mad  —  or  chalk  them  sound 

and  whole  ? 
To  yoke  a  team  of  mice,  build  huts  of 

sod. 
Ride  on  a  switch,  and  play  at  ev'n-and- 

odd, — 
All  this  if  one  should  do  with  bearded 

chin, 
Few   would    deny   that    madness   lurked 

within. 
Say  now  —  if  sober  argument  shall  prove 
These  freaks  not  half  so  childish  as  to 

love, 
(No   matter  whether  on  the  play-ground 

rolled 
You  gambol  as  you  did  when  four  years 

old, 
Or    for    a    jilt     with     foolish     tremors 

quake 


V*v^i.' •;.?.' .'•■•• — :■■••-  -'-•■'.• 


*.•-..     .*   \i 


i8i 


T 


"S" 


E    I     I    I    f 

.»      •     =    r     f 


V^ 


•-^#<»j 


And  whine  and  whimper  for  a  harlot's 

sake) 
Would  you,  like  Polemo  reclaimed,  lay 

by 
Each  tell-tale  badge  of  the  mind's  mal- 
ady ? 
And,  as  he  reeking  from  debauch,  't  is 

said. 
Drew  one  by  one  the  garlands  from  his 

head. 
Stung  by  the  sober  sage's  keen  rebuff. 
Would  you  too  doff  the  tippet,  swathe, 

and  muff? 
Offer  the  wayward  child  a  plum  ;  't  is 

still 
"  I  won't :  "  withhold  it,  and  he   cries, 

"I  will." 
And  is  the  doting  lover  less  a  child. 
Who   ponders,    from   his    mistress'  gate 

exiled. 
Whether  to  go  or  not,  where  he  were 

sure 
To  go  uncalled,  nor  quits  the  hated  door  ? 


182 


—  "What,"  sighs    the   youth;  —  "and 

can  I  still  refuse 
When  of  herself  she  sends  for  me  and 

sues  ? 
Or    shall    I    boldly   close    at    once    my 

pain  ? 
She    shut    me  out  —  she   summons   me 

again ; 
And  can  I  after  this  return  ?  oh  no, 
Not  though  she  beg  me  on  her  knees  to 

go!" 
Now  hear  the  slave,  how  well  the  truth 

he  hits ; 
"  Master,  that  thing  which  in  itself  ad- 
mits 
Nor  mean  nor  method,  we   attempt  in 

vain 
By  method  and  by  counsel  to  restrain. 
In  Love  are  all  these  ills  —  alternate  wars 
And    peace,   suspicions,   jealousies,  and 

jars: 
These    random    fits,   these    ever-flitting 

forms. 


183 


Vague  and  inconstant  as  the  winds  and 

storms, 
Who  thinks  to  moderate,  were  no  less  a 

fool 
Than  he  that  should  attempt  to  rave  by 

rule." 
What  —  are  his  intellects  correct  and 

clear, 
Who,  picking  out  the  kernels  of  a  pear. 
Hails  it  an  omen  of  success  in  love, 
If   chance   one   hit   the  ceiling's   height 

above  ? 
When,  bent  with  years,  you  clip  each 

tender  word. 
Art  sane  ?  or  whether  were  it  more  ab- 
surd 
With  that  bald  pate  to  ape  an  amorous 

itch 
And    lisp   out    love,  —  or    ride    upon    a 

switch  ? 
Nor   is   this  all :    Hence  darker  evils 

flow. 
And  what  began  in  folly,  ends  in  woe : 


184 


Oft  has  suspicion  the  fond  bosom  gored 

And  tempered  at  love's  flame  the  venge- 
ful sword. 

When  Marius  plunged  the  knife  in  Hel- 
las' breast. 

Then  leaped  down  headlong,  was  he  not 
possest  ? 

Or  else  acquitted  of  disordered  sense. 

Shall  he  be  guilty  found  of  sin  prepense  ? 

Say  't  was  in  malice  or  in  madness 
done. 

The  terms  are  tantamount  —  the  thing 
is  one. 
I  knew  a  freedman  once,  advanced  in 

age. 

Who  went,  by  way  of  morning  pilgrim- 
age, 

With  clean-washed  hands  to  run  from 
street  to  street, 

Bowed  to  each  statue  that  he  chanced  to 
meet. 

And  paying  in  due  form  his  vows,  would 
cry  — 


',''".IV!i»'>...-.;-.-.;V-.^-J 


185 


"  Grant  me,  ye  gods  all-powerful,  ne'er 

to  die!"  — 
This  fellow  one  might  warrant  wind  and 

limb, 
Not  thick  of  hearing  nor  of  eye-sight  dim  : 
His  brain  no  master  but  an  arrant  knave 
Would  scruple  to  except,  if  sold  a  slave. 
Such  too  must  class,  by  wise  Chrysippus' 

rules. 
With  thee,  Menenius  !  and  thy  fellow- 
fools. 
"  O   Jove  !  "  the   mother  cries,   whose 

sole    employ 
For  five  long  months  has  been  to  nurse 

her  boy, 
"  O  Jove  !    who,  as  thy  sovereign  will 

may  please, 
Inflictest  anguish  or  reliev'st  disease. 
If  to  these  weeping  eyes  thou  giv'st  to 

see 
My  lingering  little-one  from  ague  free. 
On    the    first    solemn    fasts    thy   priests 

command 


1 86 


Chin-deep    in   Tiber's    current    he    shall 

stand." 
Should  chance  or  med'cine's  aid  prolong 

his  breath 
And  snatch  her  fosterling  from  the  jaws 

of  death, 
Bare  on  the  river's  brink  she  makes  him 

sit, 
Then    pulls    him    in,    renews    his    ague- 

And   stamps    his   doom.  —  What   mania 

have  we  here  ? 
What  but  the  frenzy  of  religious  fear  ? 
So  spake  the  sage  Stertinius  good  and 

great. 
The  eighth  wise  man  and  wisest  of  the 

eight : 
Such   arms   in   self-defence  he  bade  me 

wield, 
And  drive  each  rude  assailant  from  the 

field. 
Who  calls  me  mad,  now  hears  as  much 

in  turn  ; 


Tl 


187 


'Mi 


And  he,  that  taxes  me,  perchance  may 
learn. 

To  his  own  grosser  faults  no  longer 
blind. 

To  mark  the  wallet  pendent  from  behind. 
"  O  stoic  !  so  may  future  luck  befriend 

Your  bargains,  and  your  shattered  for- 
tunes mend  ! 

Since  you  have  clearly  proved  that  all 
men's  minds 

Are  touched,  and  folly  is  of  various 
kinds, 

Say  which  of  all  its  species  racks  my 
brain  ? 

For  'faith  I  seem  not  to  myself  insane." 

—  "Nor  did  the  mad  Agave,  when  she 

bore 
Her  own  son's  head  and  eyed  the  drip- 
ping gore." 

—  "Come  then,  I  grant  the  justice  of 

your  rule. 
And   will    most   humbly   own    myself  a 
fool,  — 


1 88 


Nay,  madman    too.     Say  only  of  what 

turn 
You  think  my  madness  is  ?  "     "  Attend 

and  learn. 
First  then  you  build ;  in  other  words,  you 

vie 
With  giants,  tho'  you  stand  scarce  three 

feet   high. 
You  smile,  when  Turbo  on  the  stage  is 

seen. 
At    his   small   stature   and   commanding 

mien  : 
But  is  he  more  ridiculous  than  you. 
When,    whatsoe'er    you    see    Maecenas 

do. 
Forthwith,    regardless    of    your    pigmy 

frame. 
You  think  that  Horace  too  must  do  the 

same  ! 
A  mother  frog,  't  is  said,  in  quest  of 

food 
Had  roamed  abroad  and  left  her  infant 

brood  : 


189 


«••"■.■  •.■.•*••  ^'■•': 


An  ox  came  by  and  crushed  them  all  but 


one. 


Who  told  his  weeping  mother  what  was 

done,  — 
How   a    stupendous   monster   huge   and 

tall 
Had  trodden  on  the  rest  and  killed  them 

all. 
Then  puffing  both  her  sides, '  D  'ye  think,' 

said  she, 
'  'T  was  big  as  this  ? '     '  Ay,  bigger  far,' 

quoth  he. 
'  What,  big  as  this  ? '  —  '  Nay,  mother, 

cease,'  he  cries  ; 
'  Strain  till  you  burst,  you  '11  never  reach 

his  size.' 
This  fable  pictures  to  the  life  the  state 
Of   little    folk,   like   you,    that   ape    the 

great. 
Add  to  these  symptoms  that  most  strange 

desire 
For  scribbling  verse  —  add  oil,  that  is, 

to  fire  :  " 


190 


"•>.'>  V.:. 


± 


For  when  was  poet  known  that  had  his 
wits  ?  — 

—  "  Hold,  hold  "  —  I  mention  not  your 

raving  fits. 
That  horrid  aptitude  to  fume  and  fret  — 

—  "Good   Damasippus,   have    you    not 

done  yet  ?  "  — 

—  "Your  style  of  living  far  above  your 

sphere  —  " 

—  "  Pray,  saucy  stoic,  cease  to  interfere 
In    my   concerns."  —  "And    then   your 

lewd  excess  " 

—  O  spare,  thou  greater  madman,  spare 

a  less  ! 

Howes. 


r-^y. 


191 


SATIRE  IV. 

IN  THE  FORM    OF    A    DIALOGUE    BETWEEN 
HORACE   AND   CATIUS 

"  Unde  et  quo  Catius  ?  " 

Horace.    Hah,     Catius !      whence     and 
whither  now  so  fast  ?  — 
Catius.   Prithee  excuse  me  ;  I  'm  in  ur- 
gent haste 

To     note     down     precepts     which     the 
Samian  sage. 

The  tongue  of  Socrates,  and  Plato's  page 

Ne'er    equalled.      H.   Marry,   I    confess 
my  crime 

To  interrupt  you  at  this  awkward  time. 

Yet  stay,  indulge  my  thirst  of  curious 
lore : 

What   now   escapes,  reflection   will   re- 
store ; 


L®: 


192 


For,  be  the  system  relative  to  art 

Or    nature,  you    have   always    both    by 

heart. 
C.   But  then  I  'd  fain  substantiate,  ere 

't  is  fled, 
This  skein  of  doctrine  spun  of  slenderest 

thread. 
H.  And   who   is  he   from  whom   the 

doctrine   came  ? 
Roman  or  sojourner  ?    and    what  's  his 

name  ? 
C.   Go  to  —  I  '11  try  and  tell  you,  if  I 

can. 
The  rules  themselves  :   no  matter  for  the 

man.     , 
The     long-shaped     eggs     should     be 

preferred  to  round  : 
Their   juice   is    richer,  and    they   more 

abound 
In    nutriment.     This    rule    will    never 

fail. 
For    they    inclose    the    embryo    of   the 

male. 


193 


The  cabbage  grown  in  dry  and  upland 
fields 

Is   sweeter   far    than    what    the    suburb 
yields. 

Here  none  but  plants  of  washy  taste  are 
had : 

Irriguous  ground  for  all  this  tribe  is  bad. 
Should    you    receive    an    unexpected 
guest, 

And   fresh-killed  fowl    be  all  you  have, 
't  were  best 

Souse  it  alive  in  mixed  Falernian  wine  : 

This   makes   the  flesh  eat   tender,  rich, 
and  fine. 
Prefer  those  mushrooms  that  in  pas- 
tures spring  : 

To  swallow  others  is  a  dangerous  thing. 
I   warrant    he   shall   seldom    sickness 
feel 

Who  with  ripe  mulberries  ends  his  morn- 
ing meal : 

But  then  they  must  be  gathered,  to  be 
sweet. 


w   'c 


194 


Ere    the    sun    sheds    his    full    meridian 

heat. 
Aufidius    for    his    morning    beverage 

used 
Honey  in  strong  Falernian  wine  infused ; 
But   here  methinks  he  showed  his  want 

of  brains  : 
Drink  less  austere  best  suits  the  empty 

veins. 
And  he  with  greater  prudence  will  pro- 
ceed 
Who  wets  his  wizzard  first  with  lenient 

mead. 
If  nature  lingers,  in  one  mess  combine 
Dwarf-sorrel,  muscles,  and  white  Coan 

wine; 
To  the  clogged  stomach  't  will  restore  its 

play 
And  wash  the  crude  obstructions  clean 

away. 
Shell-fish  afford  a  lubricating  slime  ! 
But  then  you  must  observe  both  place 

and  time. 


195 


They   're   caught    the    finest   when    the 

moon   is   new  ; 
The  Lucrine  far  excel  the  Baian  too. 
Misenum  shines  in  cray-fish  ;  Circe  most 
In  oysters  ;   scollops  let  Tarentum  boast. 

The  culinary  critic  first  should  learn 
Each  nicer  shade  of  flavour  to  discern  : 
To  sweep  the  fish-stalls  is  mere  show  at 

best, 
Unless     you     know     how     each     thing 

should  be  drest ; 
And   what   if  roasted  —  what  if  stewed 

aright 
Rallies    the     stomach    and    renews    the 

fight. 
Let    boars  of  Umbrian  game  replete 

with  mast, 
If  game    delight    you,    crown    the    rich 

repast  : 
Those  of  Laurentian  breed,  whose  only 

food 
Are  sedge   and  rushes,  are  not  half  so 

good. 


196 


The    vine-fed    gazel    small    enjoyment 

brings  : 
The  wise  in  pregnant  hares  prefer  the 

wings. 
To  con  the  worth  and  age  of  fish  and 

bird, 
Ere    I    explained    it,   was   an    art    ne'er 

heard. 
Some    waste    their    genius    upon    paste 

alone, 
As  if  one  virtue  would  all  faults  atone  : 
Others  in  choice  of  wines  place  all  their 

pride. 
Indifferent  in  what  oil  their  fish  is  fried. 
Expose  to  a  clear  sky  your  Massic  wine  ; 
Whate'er   was   thick   the    night-air  will 

refine. 
Unpleasant    odours    too    will    thus    be 

chased : 
But  straining  it  through  linen  mars  the 

taste. 
Whoe'er,    its    strength    and     spirit     to 

increase. 


197 


Pours  his  Surrentine  o'er  Falernian  lees, 
Should   clarify    the    mass    with    pigeons' 

eggs, 
Which     in     their     fall     precipitate     the 

dregs. 
Baked  shrimps  and  cockles  o'er  the  fur- 
nace drest 
Serve  to  recruit  the  satiated  guest. 
But  lettuce  after  many  a  bumper  glass 
Floats  on  the  stomach  and  corrodes  the 

mass. 
Choose   rather    ham    or    chitterlings    or 

aught 
That   reeking   from    the   Tavern-fire    is 

brought. 
The  compound  sauce  demands   your 

nicest  care, 
Mixt  up  with  oil,  rich  wine,  and  caviare  : 
But  be  it  of  no  other  sort  than  that 
Long   since    distilled  from  a   Byzantine 

vat. 
With  shredded  herbs  and  saffron  let  it 

boil, 


198 


'■.  vSi.    -i.-. 


And   when   it  cools,  pour  in   Venafrian 

oil. 
Tiburtine  pears  to  Picene  yield  in  juice, 
In  look  superior,  but  less  fit  for  use. 
For  grapes  Venaculan  big  jars  provide. 
But    dry    the   Alban  at   your  chimney's 

side. 
This  grape  with  apples,  brine,  and  Coan 

lees, 
(Add     salt    and    sifted    pepper,    if    you 

please) 
Round  the  main  dish  in  separate  plates 

to  stew 
Is  an  invention  to  my  genius  due. 
Fools,    having    spent    a    fortune    for    a 

fish, 
Cramp    its    circumference    in    a    scanty 

dish. 
*T  is   apt    foul   nausea   in   the   guest  to 

raise. 
If  by  a  greasy  glass  the  slave  betrays 
His  lickorish  thefts  :   nor  is  the  eye  less 

hurt 


199 


ili 


To  see  an  antique  vase  begrimed  with 

dirt. 
How  small  of  sand,  brooms,  dusters  is 

the  price  ! 
Yet   to   o'erlook   them   what    a   flagrant 

vice  ! 
Gods !    who    would    sweep    with    filthy 

besom  o'er 
The  beauties  of  a  tesselated  floor  ? 
Or   who   with  sense  of  decency  would 

spread 
An  unwashed  cover  o'er  a  purple  bed  ? 
The  less  expense  and  pains  such  trifles 

claim, 
To  disregard  them  is  the  greater  shame  : 
Some  comforts  nought  but  wealth  com- 
mands ;  but  these 
Are   such   as    all   can    compass    if   they 

please. 
H.  Good  Catius  !  let  me  by  the  gods, 

I  pray. 
Hear    this    professor,    be    he     who     he 

may. 


200 


20I 


SATIRE  V. 

A       HUMOUROUS        DIALOGUE        BETWEEN 
ULYSSES   AND  TIRESIAS 

"  Hoc  quoque  Tiresia,  prater  narrata  petenti." 

Ulysses.    Besides     the     precepts     which 
you   gave    before. 

Resolve     this    question,    and    I    ask    no 
more : 

Say   by  what   arts    and   methods    I   may 
Straight 

Repair  the  ruins  of  a  lost  estate. 

How  now,  Tiresias  ?  whence  those  leer- 
ing smiles  ? 
Tiresias.   Already    versed    in    double- 
dealing  wiles. 

Are  you  not  satisfied  to  reach  again 

Your   native  land,  and    view  your  dear 
domain  ? 


m 


202 


U.   How   poor    and   naked    I    return, 
behold, 
Unerring  prophet,  as  you  first  foretold. 
The    wooing    tribe,    in    revellings    em- 
ployed. 
My  stores  have  lavished  and  my  herds 

destroyed  ; 
But  high  descent  and  meritorious  deeds, 
Unblest  with  wealth,  are  viler  than  sea- 
weeds. 
T.  Since,  to  be  brief,  you  shudder  at 
the  thought 
Of   want,   attend    how    riches    may   be 

caught. 
Suppose  a  thrush,  or  any  dainty  thing 
Be    sent    to    you,    despatch    it    on    the 

wing 
To  some  rich  dotard.     What  your  gar- 
den yields, 
The  choicest  honours  of  your  cultured 

fields, 
To  him  be  sacrificed,  and  let  him  taste. 
Before  your  gods,  the  vegetable  feast. 


203 


Though  he  be  perjured ;  though  a  low- 
born knave, 
Stained  with  fraternal  blood,  a  fugitive 

slave, 
Yet  wait  upon  him,  at  his  least  command, 
And  always  bid  him  take  the  upper  hand. 
U.    What ;    shall    Ulysses   then    obey 

the   call 
Of  such  a  wretch,  and  give  a  slave  the 

wall  ? 
Not   thus   at   Troy    I    proved    my  lofty 

mind. 
Contending  ever  with  the  nobler  kind. 
T.  Then  poverty  's  your  fate.     U.  And 

be  it  so. 
Let  me  with  soul  undaunted  undergo 
This    loathsome   evil,   since    my   valiant 

heart 
In  greater  perils  bore  a  manly  part. 
But    instant    tell    me,    prophet,   how    to 

scrape 
Returning  wealth,  and  pile  the  splendid 

heap. 


►  ••*..':;•'•"•■  •■•;•"'  '• 'J^iv-'V 


-  i.-ii..  ■:'•:■•j••■^^':'l.•■.^\:^'■• 
.  .*."-.--.ct--s::'. •••.-•  -  .':■•■•■ 


204 


you :    you    may 


T.  I    told,  and    tell 

safely  catch 
The  wills  of  dotards,  if  you  wisely  watch  ; 
And  though  one  hunks  or  two  perceive 

the  cheat, 
Avoid  the  hook,  or  nibble  off  the  bait, 
Lay  not  aside  your  golden  hope  of  prey. 
Or  drop  your  art,  though  baffled  in  your 

play. 
Should  either  great  or  less  important 

suit 
In  court  become  the  matter  in  dispute. 
Espouse  the  man  of  prosperous  affairs. 
Pregnant  with  wealth,  if  indigent  in  heirs  ; 
Though  he  should  hamper  with  a  wicked 

cause 
The  juster  party,  and  insult  the  laws. 
Despite  the  citizen  of  better  life. 
If  clogged   with   children,  or  a  fruitful 

wife. 
Accost  him  thus,  (for  he  with   rapture 

hears 
A  title  tingling  in  his  tender  ears,) 


205 


"  Quintus,  or  Publius,  on  my  faith  de- 
pend, 
Your  own  deserts  have  rendered  me  your 

friend  : 
I  know  the  mazy  doubles  of  the  laws, 
Untie  their  knots,  and  plead  with  vast 

applause. 
Had  you  a  nut,  the  villain  might  as  well 
Pluck  out  my  eyes,  as  rob  you  of  the 

shell. 
This  is  the  business  of  my  life  profest, 
That  you  lose  nothing,  or  become  a  jest." 
Bid  him  go  home,  of  his  sweet  self  take 

care ; 
Conduct  his  cause,  proceed,  and   perse- 


vere. 


Should    the   red   dog-star   infant   statues 

split. 
Or  fat-paunched  Furius  in  poetic  fit 
Bombastic  howl ;  and,  while  the  tempest 

blows, 
Bespawl    the    wintry   Alps    with    hoary 

snows. 


206 


Some  person  then,  who  happens  to  be 

nigh, 
Shall  pull  your  client  by  the  sleeve,  and 

cry, 
**  See  with  what  patience  he  pursues  your 

ends  ! 
Was  ever  man  so  active  for  his  friends  ?  " 
Thus  gudgeons  daily  shall  swim  in  apace. 
And  stock  your  fish-ponds  with  a  fresh 

increase. 
This   lesson   also  well  deserves   your 

care. 
If  any  man  should  have  a  sickly  heir. 
And  large  estate,  lest  you  yourself  betray 
By  making  none  but  bachelors  your  prey. 
With   winning    ease    the    pleasing   bane 

instil. 
In  hopes  to  stand  the  second  in  his  will ; 
Then  if  the  boy  by  some  disaster  hurled. 
Should   take    his  journey  to   the   nether 

world. 
Your  name  in  full  reversion  may  supply 
The  void  ;  for  seldom  fails  this  lucky  die. 


!l 


207 


If  any  one  desires  you  to  peruse 
His  will,  be  sure  you  modestly  refuse. 
And  push  it  from  you  ;  but  obliquely  read 
The  second  clause,  and  quick  run  o'er 

the  deed  ; 
Observing,  whether,  to  reward  your  toil. 
You  claim  the  whole,  or  must  divide  the 

spoil. 
A  seasoned   scrivener,  bred    in   office 

low, 
Full  often  dupes,  and  mocks  the  gaping 

crow. 
Thus    foiled,    Nasica    shall    become   the 

sport 
Of  old  Coranus,  while  he  pays  his  court. 
U.   What  !  are  you  mad,  or  purposed 

to  propose 
Obscure  predictions,  to  deride  my  woes  ? 
T.   O  son  of  great  Laertes,  everything 
Shall  come  to  pass,  or  never,  as  I  sing  ; 
For    Phoebus,   monarch    of   the    tuneful 

Nine, 
Informs  my  soul,  and  gives  me  to  divine. 


208 


U.  But,  good  Tiresias,  if  you  please, 
reveal 
What  means  the  sequel  of  that  mystic 
tale. 
T.  What  time  a  youjth,  who  shall  sub- 
limely trace 
From  famed  i^neas  his  heroic  race, 
The  Parthian's  dread,  triumphant   shall 

maintain 
His  boundless  empire  over  land  and  main  j 
Nasica,  loath  to  reimburse  his  coin. 
His   blooming   daughter  shall   discreetly 

join 
To  stout  Coranus,  who  shall  slily  smoke 
The  harpy's  aim,  and  turn  it  to  a  joke. 
The  son-in  law  shall  gravely  give  the  sire 
His  witnessed  will,  and  presently  desire 
That  he  would  read  it :  coyly  he  com- 
plies. 
And  silent  cons  it  with  attentive  eyes; 
But  firds,  alas  !   to  him  and  his  forlorn 
No  le^xy  bequeathed — except  to  mourn. 
Add  to  these  precepts,  if  a  crafty  lass. 


i***---J}^i:^ 


209 


JL 


Or  freedman  manage  a  delirious  ass, 
Be  their  ally  ;   their  faith  applaud,  that 

you. 
When  absent,  may  receive  as   much  in 

lieu ; 
'T  is  good  to  take  these  outworks  to  his 

pelf. 
But  best  to  storm  the  citadel  itself. 

Writes  he  vile  verses  in  a  frantic  vein  ? 
Augment  his  madness,  and  approve  the 

strain  ; 
Loves  he  a  lass  ?  then,  vi'ith  a  cheerful 

glee 
Give  to  his  arms  your  own  Penelope. 
U.     Can    you     suppose,    a    dame    so 

chaste,  so   pure. 
Could  e'er  be  tempted  to  the  guilty  lure. 
Whom  all  the  suitors  amorously  strove. 
In  vain,  to  stagger  in  her  plighted  love  ? 
T.  The   youth   too    sparing    of   their 

presents  came  9 
They  loved  the  banquet  rather  than  the 

dame ; 


210 


And     thus    your     prudent,    honourable 

spouse, 
It    seems,    was    faithful    to   her  nuptial 

vows. 
But  had  she  once  indulged  the  dotard's 

glee. 
Smacked    her   old  cull,  and   shared    the 

spoil  with  thee. 
She  never  after  could  be  terrified. 
Sagacious  beagle,  from  the  reeking  hide. 
I  '11  tell  a  tale,  well  worthy  to  be  told, 
A  fact  that  happened,  and  I  then  was 

old: 
A    hag    at  Thebes,    a    wicked    one,   no 

doubt. 
Was  thus,  according  to  her  will,  lugged 

out. 
Stiff  to  the  pile.     Upon  his  naked  back 
Her  heir  sustained  the  well-anointed  pack. 
She,   likely,   took    this   crotchet    in    her 

head. 
That  she  might  slip,  if  possible,  when 

dead, 


!^tm' 


■' .. .  .■  ^ .' 


211 


From  him,  who  trudging  through  a  filthy 

road, 
Had  stuck  too  closely  to  the  living  load. 
Be   cautious,   therefore,   and   advance 
with  art. 
Nor  sink  beneath,  nor  overact  your  part. 
A  noisy  fellow  must  of  course  offend 
The  surly  temper  of  a  sullen  friend  : 
Yet   be  not  mute  —  like  Davus  in   the 

play. 
With  head  inclined,  his  awful  nod  obey. 
Creep  into  favour :  if  a  ruder  gale 
Assault  his  face,  admonish  him  to  veil 
His  precious  pate.      Oppose  your  shoul- 
ders, proud 
To    disengage    him    from    the    bustling 

crowd. 
If  he  loves  prating,  hang  an  ear :  should 

lust 
Of  empty  glory  be  the  blockhead's  gust. 
Indulge  his  eager  appetite,  and  pufF 
The  growing  bladder  with  inspiring  stuff. 
Till  he,  with  hands  uplifted  to  the  skies, 


212 


*■*■  Enough  !  enough  !  "  in  glutted  rapture 

cries. 
When    he    shall    free   you   from  your 

servile  fear. 
And    tedious   toil ;    when   broad   awake. 


^% 


rou 


hear. 


*'  To  good  Ulysses,  my  right  trusty  slave, 
A  fourth  division  of  my  lands  I  leave  :  " 
"  Is  then  (as  void  of  consolation,  roar) 
My   dearest  friend,  my   Dama   now  no 

more  ? 
Where  shall  I  find  another  man  so  just. 
Firm    in    his   love,   and    faithful   to   his 

trust  ?  " 
Squeeze  out  some  tears  :  't  is  fit  in  such  a 

case 
To  cloak  your  joys  beneath  a  mournful 

face. 
Though  left  to  your  discretionary  care. 
Erect  a  tomb  magnificently  fair. 
And   let   your   neighbours,   to    proclaim 

abroad 
Your  fame,  the  pompous  funeral  applaud. 


<»^ 


213 


If  any  vassal  of  the  will-compeers, 
With  asthma  gasping,  and  advanced  in 

years, 
Should  be  disposed  to  purchase  house  or 

land. 
Tell  him,  that  he  may  readily  command 
Whatever  may  to  your  proportion  come. 
And   for   the   value,  let   him    name   the 

sum.  — 
But  I  am  summoned  by  the  queen  of 

hell 
Back  to   the   shades.     Live  artful,  and 

farewell. 

Francis. 


THE    END. 


214 


4 


14  DAY  USE 

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